As Bright As the Sun
by hionlife
Summary: Future AU. Kurt is a secretary at the Dalton Dialysis Clinic. Blaine is their newest patient. Featuring Santana, Mercedes, and Quinn.
1. As Bright As the Sun

As Bright as the Sun

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><p>Summary: Future AU. Kurt is a secretary at the Dalton Dialysis Clinic. Blaine is their newest patient. Featuring Santana, Mercedes, and Quinn.<p>

Rating: T

Word Count: 5750

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><p>Kurt Hummel has a mouthful of Greek salad. He's got a diet coke in one hand and is scrolling furiously through insurance records with the other, frowning at his computer screen.<p>

This is when the man of his dreams appears in front of him.

"Um, excuse me?"

Kurt looks up and, he won't admit it later, but his jaw might drop a little. The guy standing at the desk is beautiful. His dark hair is perfectly styled. His gray, collared sweater, Calvin Klein Kurt notes, is classic and plays up his features nicely. His brightly colored sunglasses add just the right amount of fun to the outfit.

Kurt tries to swallow the lump of lettuce in his mouth. "Hello. I'm sorry. I missed lunch. I don't usually eat...at my desk." He realizes how dumb he sounds and stops talking, but the beautiful boy just grins at him.

"That's okay. I can wait."

Kurt sets down his soda and shoves his salad off to the side. "How can I help you?"

"I have an appointment at 1:00."

"Oh, okay." Kurt always tries not to judge anyone that comes into the clinic, but this guy seems so healthy. Of course, Kurt has some pretty thick, rose-colored glasses on when it comes to young, handsome boys. "What's your name?"

"Blaine Anderson."

Kurt pulls up his file and finds the appropriate forms. He hands them to Blaine with a clipboard and pen. "Here you go. Just fill out everything you can and make sure you sign at the bottom."

"Sure. Thanks." Blaine leans forward and squints at the name tag pinned on Kurt's sweater. "Thanks, Kurt."

He turns away then and Kurt is so thankful because he's pretty sure he swoons a little, leaning over his desk and pressing his forehead to the cool surface. When he straightens up, Blaine is just sitting down in a corner chair of the waiting room. He moves slowly, stiffly, like he's afraid it's going to hurt.

Kurt frowns. He hates this part of the job. He's worked at the Dalton Dialysis Clinic for just over a year and it never gets easier to deal with the reality of people that are so sick. Kurt doesn't have any medical education. He's just a secretary, but what he's learned in a year is that kidney dialysis is a last resort treatment. It's exhausting and can be dangerous, and the only other hope for many people is an organ transplant. Kurt doesn't wish that kind of situation on anyone, and yeah, that includes all the Neanderthals he knew back in high school.

Kurt tries to refocus on his work, but it seems like just a minute before Blaine is back at the desk with his completed paperwork. He offers it with a smile, sunglasses now pushed up to rest on top of his head.

"Done."

"Let's see." Kurt accepts the papers and scans them quickly to make sure Blaine didn't miss anything. His eyes catch a bit of information at the bottom of the page. "Oh, you were being treated at the Westerville Hospital."

Blaine nods. "Yeah, but I begged my doctor to transfer me here. It's a lot cozier than going into a big, cold hospital every other day." He gestures around the lobby, which is decorated more like a living room, with couches and chairs and lit softly with table lamps.

Kurt nods. "Fluorescent lighting, it's terrible."

"Yeah." Blaine smiles. "Plus, it's a lot closer. I just live over on South Main."

"Really?" Kurt hopes he doesn't sound too excited. "I live in the apartments on the corner of Spring Street."

"Oh, yeah? That's like two streets over."

"We're practically neighbors."

"Well, hello neighbor," Blaine says in a deep voice. He sticks his hand out and Kurt takes it in a firm shake, trying not to get lost in how warm and wonderful it feels.

"Hey, secretary boy."

Kurt drops Blaine's hand when a stack of folders lands on his desk. Santana, the head nurse at the center, fixes him with her best unimpressed look. "Stop accosting our patients and get to filing, Lady Hands. Are you my one o'clock?" She asks this of Blaine, who is staring at her in fear.

He nods.

"Well, come on then." Santana turns back down the hallway toward the treatment room.

Blaine gives Kurt a skeptical look. "Maybe I should go back to Westerville."

"Don't worry. She's a marshmallow, really." Kurt shrugs.

"I guess I'll have to trust you on that one." Blaine makes a goofy scared face and follows after Santana.

"You'll be fine," Kurt calls after him.

Still walking down the hall, Blaine raises his arms in triumph.

* * *

><p>It's two days later when Kurt sees Blaine again. He comes through the front door, moving slowly, achingly, but otherwise well. He looks up at Kurt and smiles brightly.<p>

"Hey, Kurt."

"Hi, Blaine. How are you doing?"

"Well, I woke up today." Blaine gives him a sly wink.

Kurt feels like he might fall over. "Well, then it's a good day."

"It definitely is." Blaine comes up to the desk to sign himself in. "So, what are you going to do to take advantage of it?"

He's smiling and looks absolutely genuine.

Kurt shakes his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what are you going to do today to take advantage of being alive?"

"I'm at work," Kurt answers slowly.

"But, you must have dreams. You seem like a dream-filled kind of guy." When Kurt continues to hesitate, Blaine pushes him further. "Come on. Humor me. I'm dying."

"You're not dying," Kurt answers quickly. He doesn't even know if it's true, he just knows that even though he's only spent a brief amount of time with Blaine, he really doesn't want it to be.

"Okay, so I'm probably not dying today, but still..."

Kurt hedges a bit further. It's true, he did have dreams once. Growing up, he certainly never thought he'd still be working in an office in Ohio by the age of twenty-five. "Fine. I guess I always wanted to go to New York," he finally says.

Blaine claps his hands. "There it is. Go to New York."

"I can't do that today."

"Why not?"

"I can't just leave my life here. I have things to do. It's just...I just can't."

"Wow." Blaine actually looks impressed. "A realist."

"Not by nature, but I've learned." Kurt nods. Living in a world that constantly told him he wasn't good enough, wasn't right enough, and couldn't have what he wanted had slowly wrung all his dreams out of him.

"Trust me Kurt." Blaine is suddenly serious. "One day you're happy and healthy, the next day you've got tumors on your kidneys. Seize the day."

Kurt tries for coy and is pretty sure he doesn't quite get there. They're way past light joking now and into deep waters. "I didn't expect this to get so serious so fast."

The treatment room door pops open and Santana leans out. "Hey, Blaine. The toxins are building up in your blood as we speak. Let's go."

Blaine nods and gives Kurt a look that he can't identify. "I'll see you in four hours."

"I'll be here." Kurt smiles.

Kurt can't stop thinking about Blaine for the rest of the morning though. It must be easy for someone in Blaine's position to go around saying things like carpe diem and follow your dreams. Kurt never considered himself a realist. He used to have dreams, big dreams. He dreamt of things far beyond a tiny job in a clinic. Yet, here he is. He's not a realist, he's jaded.

When lunch comes around at noon, Kurt takes his salad and diet coke and heads back to the treatment room.

Blaine is in the station farthest from the door. There are tubes hooked up to his right arm and machines clicking away beside him. Before, Kurt had tried to avoid the treatment room at all costs. He's easily grossed out and all the medical sounds and smells bring back bad memories. But, he's here now, seizing the day. He pulls up a chair and sits down next to Blaine.

Blaine opens his eyes and turns his head on the headrest to see Kurt. A slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face. "Hey."

"Hey."

Blaine watches as Kurt opens his container of salad and sets his coke on the side table. "Do you usually eat your lunch with the patients?"

"No." Kurt tries to act non-chalant. "I usually eat lunch at my desk, as you have witnessed."

"Oh, yes. I remember. Very charming. So, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I thought you might get lonely."

"No. Not really. I mean, Nurse Santana is just so pleasant all the time and the company is outstanding." Blaine gestures around him.

There are three other patients in the room. They are all at least thirty years older than Blaine and they are all deeply asleep.

Kurt starts laughing first and when Blaine joins in, it's the most pleasant moment Kurt can remember in recent memory. He can't remember a time, ever, when he felt so instantly comfortable with someone.

"So," Blaine says. "I usually bring my ipod, but...it died." He holds the offending object in his lap, screen dark and headphones tangled around it.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Kurt stabs at his salad. "We pipe in satellite radio, but its pretty much elevator music and then they make us keep it so low you can't even hear it."

"Probably so people can sleep."

When Kurt looks up, Blaine's eyes are closed.

"Oh my gosh. I'm sorry. You probably want to rest and here I am eating in front of you and...oh my god, can you hear me chewing?"

"Kurt. Kurt, stop." Blaine reaches over to touch Kurt's arm. "It's fine. Really. I'm glad you came back here. But...since you're here and my ipod died, maybe you could make yourself useful and sing to me."

"I can't sing," Kurt responds instantly.

"Yes, you can."

"How do you know?"

"Santana."

"I'll kill her."

"You were right about her. Total marshmallow." Blaine laughs. "Well?"

"I can't sing in here," Kurt stage whispers.

"Sure you can. I don't think they're going to mind." Blaine looks pointedly at the elderly man across from him. There's drool running down his chin.

"Okay. Okay." Kurt sets his lunch off to the side. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

Blaine settles back in his chair with a grin. "Whenever you're ready."

Kurt clears his throat and sits up straight. He opens his mouth and begins to sing.

"_When you're smiling, when you're smiling, the whole world smiles with you._

_ When you're laughing, when you're laughing the sun comes shining through..."_

Kurt keeps his voice low, quiet, in fear of disturbing anyone despite what Blaine has said. It gives the otherwise cheery song a melancholy vibe that Kurt decides suits the situation well. When the song is finished, Kurt opens his eyes.

Blaine is watching him intently. "That was...amazing."

Kurt smiles. "Thank you."

They're still whispering.

Kurt shifts on his chair and glances at the clock. "I should get back." He gathers up his half-eaten lunch and stands.

Blaine is still watching him. "Thank you, Kurt. Really, thank you."

As Kurt is leaving the room, he has to walk past Santana at the nurses station. She quirks an eyebrow at him and smiles knowingly.

"Shut up, Santana," Kurt hisses.

"I didn't even say anything this time."

"He's probably straight anyway." Kurt doesn't know why he says it. He's just feeling too much for a minute. He's too close to something like happiness and friendship and maybe something more and that isn't typical in his life.

Santana laughs. "I don't think that's going to be a problem."

Kurt doesn't know what to say. He sticks his tongue out at her.

She does the same back, plus crosses her eyes. Santana is one of the scariest people he knows. She's also one of the best.

Kurt glances back at Blaine one more time. He's watching Kurt through half-lidded eyes and raises one hand in a weak wave. Kurt smiles and waves, feeling his heart swell in his chest.

* * *

><p>Thursday is Kurt's day off. Secretly, he's really okay with it since it's also Blaine's day off from dialysis. He spends the day lounging around in his pajamas, cleaning the apartment and watching reruns of America's Next Top Model. Late in the afternoon, Mercedes texts him about going to a movie that evening. The theater is just a few blocks away and they can walk from his apartment.<p>

Kurt gets ready more quickly than usual. It's just a movie and it's just Mercedes and he's feeling really lazy for some reason.

Mercedes shows up right on time.

"Looking fabulous as usual," Kurt tells her when he opens the door. She hugs him and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then, she steps back and gives him a once-over.

"What's going on with you?" She demands.

"What?" Kurt frowns down at his outfit. "What's wrong with this?"

"Not your outfit, you're-" Mercedes gestures up and down him. "You're you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Boy, you've got some kind of crazy good vibes coming off you. What's going on?"

Kurt presses a hand to his chest. "I do?"

"Uh-huh. Don't tell me. You finally went out and got yourself some sweet, sweet-"

"No!" Kurt interupts her. "Nothing like that. I mean, not that that would be a bad thing. But, let's just say...I think I'm starting to believe in love again." As he says the words, Kurt realizes it's true and that the laziness he'd been feeling all day had actually been a little bit of happiness and contentment.

Mercedes crosses her arms. "Who is he?"

"I can't tell you."

"Kurt..."

"I mean, I can't tell you because it's not even a thing. It's just, you know, talking. I haven't even known him a week and I don't even know if he's gay or not."

"If he's responding in a way to make you feel like this, then I'm pretty sure you do know that he's gay."

Kurt grabs his jacket off the rack and pulls it on, smiling the whole time. Mercedes slips her arm through his as they walk out the door. "Come on. We've got a whole evening together and I swear I'm going to get you to spill before its over."

They walk downtown slowly, looking in shop windows, and discussing work (for Kurt) and school (for Mercedes). The theater is showing an indie movie, something about travel and love, but when its over, Kurt can't even remember the main character's names.

"You want to go for coffee?" Mercedes asks as they exit the theater.

"Yeah. Sure."

"Alright. I just need to run back in and use the bathroom." Mercedes goes back into the theater and Kurt wanders a little ways up the sidewalk to a spot where there are some benches and flower beds. It's a warm night and Kurt sits down, enjoying the fresh air.

"What a good boy."

Kurt recognizes the voice instantly and spins around on the bench. Behind him, on another bench, is Blaine wearing a heavy sweater and holding the tiniest dog Kurt has ever seen on his lap. He scratches behind the dog's ears and continues to coo at it.

"Blaine?" Kurt stands up and walks over to sit next to him. Before he can second guess himself, he leans over and gives him a warm hug. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." Blaine returns the hug openly, grinning at Kurt. "It's good to see you not at work. What are you doing down here?"

"I just came from a movie." Kurt leans back a little, taking in the sight of the little dog on Blaine's lap trying to lick at his fingers. "What about you?"

"Dinner at Cork's."

"I love that place. Have you had the apricot wontons? Totally to die for." Kurt is gushing a little and suddenly he can see it all so clearly in his mind. Spending lazy evenings with Blaine, strolling around town, holding hands, walking Blaine's tiny dog. "He's so cute. What's his name?"

"Tank."

Kurt laughs out loud. "It suits him well."

"I thought so, too."

"I can't believe I never saw you around town before."

"Yeah, well." Blaine shrugs and even though he's still smiling, Kurt can see the hurt in his eyes when he speaks. "I haven't really been out much lately."

"Oh, right. I'm so sorry."

"No, it's okay." Blaine is quick to comfort him. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something more, but then he stops and looks away, smoothing his hand over Tank's back.

Kurt scoots a little closer to him on the bench. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Blaine is open to anything and Kurt thinks that's what he likes most about him. It's so attractive to find someone that is so available to others.

"You mentioned tumors on your kidneys before. Are they...is it...Do you still have them?"

"No." Blaine shakes his head. "Two years ago, I starting having a lot of pain in my back and my stomach."

Kurt winces. He doesn't want to think about someone like Blaine hurting, but he needs to know the rest.

"When they found the tumors, everyone was so relieved that it wasn't cancer. We thought it would be an easy surgery. The doctors would remove the tumors and I would be fine. But, they were so, I forget the medical word, they were tangled up with my kidneys so much that there was a lot of damage during the surgery. So...here we are." Blaine looks up and smiles. "That's it."

"So, you're not dying?" Kurt holds his breath and bites his tongue waiting for the answer.

"I hope not. It's sort of one day at a time right now. They're hoping my kidneys will heal a little more, but if that doesn't happen then I'll probably need a transplant and if that doesn't happen..." Blaine shrugs.

"I'm so sorry." Kurt reaches over and rests his hand on Blaine's knee. Immediately, Tank turns around and tries to lick at his fingers.

Blaine smiles down at the dog. "Don't be sorry. I'm really okay with it. I've found my peace, I guess."

Tank tries to crawl up Kurt's arm, forcing Kurt to bring up his other hand to make sure he doesn't teeter off. "I think your dog likes me."

"It seems like it. Unfortunately, he's not really mine."

Kurt presses a hand to his chest in exaggerated shock. "Blaine, did you steal this dog?"

"No." Blaine laughs. "I'm not a dog-napper. I can't believe you would think that about me. He belongs to-"

"Me."

Kurt looks up to see, standing there on the sidewalk, the most beautiful, blonde girl he has ever seen in real life. Instantly, Kurt dislikes her. He hates her perfect hair and her perfect skin. He especially hates the way that when she stands next to Blaine, they look like the perfect hipster couple.

"Tank is Quinn's dog. Quinn, this is Kurt. Kurt, Quinn."

"Kurt from the dialysis center?" Quinn holds her hand out to Kurt, smiling gently at him from under the brim of her fedora. "Blaine's told me a lot about you. I'm so glad he's found a friend there."

"I'm glad to have a friend, too." Kurt smiles tightly. He's suddenly very conscious of the fact that his hand is still on Blaine's knee and he tries to be smooth as he removes his hand and stands in one motion. "I should get going. My friend probably thinks I left her."

Blaine looks worried and Kurt's not sure why.

Quinn takes the seat that Kurt just left and gives him that sunny, pleasant smile again. "It's really nice to meet you."

"You too. I'll see you tomorrow, Blaine." When Kurt turns around, Mercedes is heading down the sidewalk toward him. He hurries to meet her halfway.

"Who was that?" She tries to look over his shoulder.

"That was my guy."

"The guy that made you believe in love again?"

"Yep."

"And the girl with him?"

"His perfect girlfriend."

"Damn, boo." Mercedes wraps an arm around his waist. "You going to be okay?"

Kurt takes a deep breath and lets it out noisily. "I always am."

* * *

><p>Really, Kurt tells himself, he's okay. Blaine, the most interesting guy he's met in a long time, is straight, but Kurt is okay. Blaine is a patient at Kurt's workplace, anyway. He's not sure, but he thinks he would probably get in trouble for that somewhere along the way. Not to mention, Blaine is sick. Really sick. Kurt hates it, but he has to be honest with himself and admit that he's not sure he could let himself grow close to someone just to lose them.<p>

He pretends that the thought of Blaine dying doesn't send a pang of pain through his chest. It's indigestion. It's stress. It's anything but his newest and brightest dream being crushed.

At work, Kurt tries extra hard to stay busy. Santana keeps looking at him out of the corner of her eye, like she knows something is up. Kurt just throws himself into even more work though, and when he's all caught up with records and filing, he moves onto reorganizing his computer's desktop.

This is what he's doing when Blaine walks in. Kurt focuses hard on the computer screen and then panics at the last second and picks up the phone. "Dalton Dialysis, how may I help you?" He pretends to be listening very carefully and waves pseudo-distractedly at Blaine.

Blaine frowns at him as he signs in.

"Yes. Uh-huh," Kurt says to the dial tone. "Next week? Let me look at our schedule." He keeps it up until Blaine heads back to the treatment room.

Kurt hangs the phone up gently. He has no idea what he's doing. He can't remember ever being in such a terrible situation. He likes Blaine. He really, really likes Blaine.

He takes a deep breath. This is his job, which for the most part, he actually enjoys. There is no way he can fake phone calls every day that Blaine comes in.

They can still be friends, he decides. There's no reason they can't be friends. They'll be friendly when they see each other every other day and maybe once in a while, Kurt will eat his lunch with Blaine. As a friend.

Resolutely, Kurt gets up from his desk and marches back to the treatment room.

Blaine is once again in the far station. His eyes are closed and Kurt can't help but notice that he looks worn out and tense. He approaches quietly and sits himself on a stool beside the treatment chair.

Blaine opens his eyes at the movement and Kurt instantly sees that they are a terrible, bright red.

Kurt totally forgets what he was about to say. He melts inside when Blaine squints up at him and lets out a shaky breath. "Hey."

"Hey. Can I get you anything?"

Blaine just shakes his head.

"Visine?" Kurt jokes and reaches over to touch Blaine's arm. He's usually not such a touchy-feely kind of person, but there is something about this guy that is continually throwing everything Kurt knows about himself on its head. He tries to smile at him but Blaine just looks away.

"Visine doesn't help. It's fine, anyway, just a side effect." Blaine is holding his phone in his hand. In a short glance, all Kurt sees at the top of the screen are the words 'Messages from Quinn.' It feels like there's a rock in his stomach.

Blaine tries to sit up straighter, but its pretty evident that he's having a bad day. Kurt has seen a lot of the clinic's patients go through it. Some react very well to thier treatments, others take it extremely hard, but many more have a fairly equal number of good days and bad days.

Blaine gives up and slumps down in his seat. "Listen, Kurt, you've been really good to me."

"Wait." Kurt squeezes his arm gently to stop him. "There's something I need to say. I really like you as a person. I think you're great and I would love to be your friend, if you'll have me."

"Of course I will, but-"

"As your friend, I want you to be happy. And I also want you to be healthy."

Blaine is struggling to keep his eyes open and shaking his head. Kurt swallows hard, feeling a lump form in his throat. "I'm sorry. I should really let you rest. I'll just see you later, okay?"

Kurt is already backing away and Blaine sounds very sad when he says, "Okay, Kurt. We'll be friends."

* * *

><p>The weekend passes without any excitement. Kurt spends a terrible amount of time moping on the sofa trying to convince himself to quit moping on the sofa. It doesn't work. When monday comes around, he's in a foul mood and ends up getting to work late. Since he's late, Blaine has already come through the office and is settled back in the treatment room, where, Kurt decides, he won't be bothered today.<p>

Santana comes up to the front desk once, but she doesn't even smile when she drops a mountain of folders on Kurt's desk. "He asked about you today."

"Really?" Kurt acts uninterested.

"Uh, yeah, _really._"

"Well, we're friends."

"Friends. Right." She draws the word out with a smirk.

"It's true." Kurt waves a hand at her. "Go away Santana, you're clouding my _chi_ up here."

Kurt almost feels bad when she turns and walks away without a word.

The hours pass quickly and Kurt doesn't have a thought beyond insurance types and medical codes until the ambulance pulls up outside. Kurt stands and goes out to the hall.

"Santana?" He calls down to the treatment rooms. "Did we call an ambulance?"

The normally cool nurse looks frazzled when she sticks her head out into the hall. "Yes. Kurt, can you go hold the doors?"

Kurt nods and rushes to meet the paramedics at the front. It's not uncommon for the clinic to have to call in an ambulance for someone. Dialysis complications happen a lot and Kurt knows this. Still, he feels a rush of adrenaline and his heart pounds hard in his chest as he guides the medics back to the treatment room.

He calls out to Santana as soon as they enter the room and then he stops.

Santana and two of the other nurses are leaning over the man in the far chair. Blaine's chair. They're working on Blaine.

The medics brush past Kurt with their stretcher. Santana is barking out orders. Half of her words are vital signs and treatment plan details, the other half are 'be careful' and 'watch his head' and 'don't think I won't find you if this kid dies.'

Kurt is frozen, one hand over his mouth. Between the medics' quick hands, he sees a glimpse of Blaine's face. He is grey.

Santana steps back from the crowd and comes over to Kurt. She grabs his arm and tugs him out of the way.

"His oxygen levels dropped and his blood pressure followed. It happens a lot, Kurt. Don't worry."

He moves out of the way as the paramedics wheel Blaine out. Santana squeezes his arm once before letting go and hurrying after them.

Kurt watches her go and thinks, _If there's no reason to worry, then why are you being nice to me?_

* * *

><p>The hospital is big and cold and the fluorescent lighting is terrible. Kurt hates it immediately. All the bad memories of his life rush back to him as he makes his way to the elevator. His mother's death, his father's illness, it all surrounds him in technicolor smell-o-vision.<p>

He'd spent the rest of the day at work in a worried daze until they'd let him go home two hours early. Going back to his quiet apartment was even worse though. He had nothing to occupy his mind. He'd paced around the tiny living room for almost an hour before deciding to just come down to the hospital.

Blaine is on the third floor, room 323. Kurt carries a bouquet of yellow daisies in front of him like a bride. He knocks gently on the door and when there's no answer, he pushes it open.

When he sees who sits at Blaine's bedside, he nearly drops the flowers and runs.

Quinn is settled on the edge of the bed, watching solemnly as Blaine sleeps. She's holding his hand and rubbing her thumb along his palm.

With a deep breath and all the courage he possesses, Kurt enters the room.

Quinn looks up instantly. "Hey, Kurt." She doesn't let go of Blaine, doesn't stop the gentle pressure of her thumb.

"Hey." Kurt smiles. "I brought flowers."

"Thank you." Quinn nods. "He'll appreciate it when he wakes up."

Kurt approaches the bed slowly. Blaine looks much better than he had in those last moments at the clinic, but that's hardly reassuring when he still looks so ill and empty, and lays so limp. "Is he..."

"Sleeping," Quinn says bluntly. "He usually spends most of the day after dialysis sleeping and today was just...much...much worse."

Kurt sets his flowers on the nightstand and sits down in the chair beside the bed. It's quiet in the room, the buzz of the hospital hushed beyond the room's door. He watches Blaine sleep and watches Quinn watch Blaine. The girl looks incredibly serious, none of the sunny smiles she'd had the first time they met. He realizes he's stared too long when she turns to look at him.

"Do you always visit patients that end up in the hospital?" Her voice is flat. Her eyes are hard. She's testing him.

"Only the special ones. Blaine is special to me." Kurt hopes thats the right answer.

"He's very special." Quinn nods grimly. "How much do you care for Blaine?"

Kurt looks up at her, startled. It's a wierd question from someone's girlfriend. "Very much. We're friends."

Quinn is quiet for a long moment. Then, she nods slowly and takes a tighter grip on Blaine's hand. "When we were sixteen, I got pregnant. It wasn't Blaine's," she adds quickly and Kurt lets out a sigh of relief. "It wasn't even my boyfriend's at the time. I gave the baby up for adoption, but it was too much for my parents. They kicked me out of the house. For a while, I didn't have anywhere to go and I stayed at Blaine's house, but then something more terrible happened."

She smiles, bitter this time, it's almost ugly on her beautiful face. "His parents kicked him out, too."

Kurt is frowning now. He can hardly stand the thought of these people dealing with so much so young. Age has brought the wisdom of how incredibly, incredibly lucky Kurt is to have the father that he does. "What happened? Why did his parents kick him out?"

Quinn looks Kurt square in the eye. "He told them that he's gay."

Kurt feels like all the air has been squeezed out of his lungs. He looks from Quinn to Blaine and instantly feels his eyes fill with tears. He reaches out and grasps Blaine's other hand.

"Since then, it's just been the two of us. But, we're not together." Quinn finishes her story and deflates a little, leaning further into Blaine's hip. "It's been really hard, Kurt, the last few years. Blaine really deserves something good in his life."

Kurt wipes at his eyes with his sleeves, a little embarrassed to be so emotional in front of Quinn. He sees now that she is incredibly strong and stoic behind her barbie doll appearance. He cares for her now, too. He scoots forward in his chair a little in order to reach across the bed for Quinn's other hand. She takes it in a warm grip and they watch over Blaine, together.

The whole thing is so overwhelming that Kurt almost skips over the most important fact. Blaine is gay. The possibility of _them_ is suddenly right there again, in front of Kurt's face, shining as bright as the sun.

* * *

><p>Blaine spends a month in the hospital. Kurt visits him regularly, keeping it light, vowing to wait until Blaine isn't in such a delicate state to ask anything of him.<p>

Kurt goes back to work. He yells at Santana and Santana yells back. He hangs out with Mercedes and goes shopping and visits his dad, but it all feels like treading water.

Early one saturday morning, Kurt is sitting at home when there's a knock on his door. He's wearing pajamas that were a Christmas gift, pants with ducks on them and a plain sweatshirt, but he answers anyway.

Blaine is standing there, looking tired and thin but awake and very alive.

Kurt can't contain his surprise. "Blaine? What are you doing here?"

Blaine smiles wickedly. "I have something I'd like to share with you." He holds up a sheet of test results. Kurt only recognizes half of the information from his work at the clinic. He scans the paper, confused until he sees a highlighted number at the bottom of the page-Kidney function: 60%.

"Sixty percent!" Kurt feels like he has lost his mind. "Sixty percent! No more dialysis!" True, it isn't a perfect number, but it is a massive improvement from where Blaine had been and it put him way over the line that meant he no longer needed to depend on machines to do the work his body was supposed to be doing.

Kurt doesn't know who jumps first, or if they are just suddenly in each other's arms, crying and laughing. He holds still long enough to grab Blaine's face in both hands and press his lips against his.

They're mouths move against each others and it's hard and soft and perfectly bittersweet, perfectly _them._ Blaine pulls back just enough to smile against Kurt's mouth. "So, will you let me buy you dinner now?"

"I won't just let you. I demand it."

"Oh...I like that."

"I like _you_."

Blaine dives in after Kurt's lips again.

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine, his very own whole, healthy, happy Blaine. He closes his eyes and vows to never, ever let go.

* * *

><p>Note: This is my first fic in so many ways. And not, in many other ways. I really wanted to find a beta, but the system on this site is overwhelming and I didn't get any replies to the messages I did send, so if any one sees any errors, please let me know. Or, if you are willing to do a full on beta-read I would happily repost an improved story! Thanks for reading! :)<p> 


	2. Our Usual Brand of Optimism

A/N: This story is a prequel to the first chapter explaining more of Quinn and Blaine's situation. I didn't plan on writing anything like this, Quinn was really just supposed to be an aside in the original story, but then I really liked the idea of this friendship! And it gave me an avenue to write more Blaingst. There may or may not be an actual sequel in the works. (Also, for the record Blaine's disease is a hodgepodge of a few actual illnesses, made to fit my needs)

* * *

><p>Quinn is at work when Blaine calls her.<p>

Blaine never calls her when he knows she's at work. He's had to call off from his job at the restaurant so many times lately that her measly job at a vintage music shop is the only thing keeping them afloat and neither of them would do a thing to jeopardize that. But, today she knows it's not a call that can wait.

She ducks into the back room and flips her phone open. "Blaine? What's going on?"

"Hey." He sounds nervous. He sounds like he's nervous and trying really hard to not sound that way.

"What's going on?" she says again.

"Don't freak out."

"Don't tell me not to freak out. When you say that, I instantly start to panic."

"Okay then." Blaine's voice is gentle. "Freak out. I'm fine."

"Stop talking in circles." Quinn tries to keep her voice low, but it's hard when she feels a scream growing like a lump in her chest.

"I'm fine," Blaine says again. "I just have to have surgery."

"Surgery. Okay." Quinn takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She can handle that. Surgery is simple, like cutting out your tonsils or getting wisdom teeth pulled. "For what?"

Blaine is quiet long enough for Quinn to listen to all the hospital noise going on somewhere around him. "The problem is with my kidneys," he finally says.

"Okay."

"It's not cancer, but I have some...growths there and-"

"Growths? What, like tumors? Blaine, that's cancer!"

"No, no, no. It's not. I swear. They're benign. They're just...growing in a really bad place."

"In your kidneys."

"On my kidneys."

Quinn slumps against the wall, head down. She breathes slowly, trying hard not to fall over.

"Quinn?" Blaine is quiet and hesitant.

Quinn knows then that this is her time to be strong, for him. She stands up straight again and wipes at her eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. When is the surgery?"

"They want to do it next week. The sooner the better, I guess."

"Okay. Everything is going to be fine."

Blaine snorts into the phone. "Of course it is."

"Listen to me. Everything is going to be fine. You have to believe that." Quinn is suddenly speaking with more conviction than she thought she had, but it's true. Everything will be fine. This is her and this is Blaine and this is what they do. When things are bad, they get through it.

"I believe you," Blaine says. "I believe you."

* * *

><p>Quinn had actually made dinner plans with her manager and sometimes friend, Rachel, but when five o'clock rolls around she cancels at the last minute. She tells Rachel that something came up and rushes out the door.<p>

She'd made the plans on purpose anyway, optimistically hoping that Blaine's appointment with the specialist at Westerville Hospital wouldn't result in her needing to rush home to make sure he was really okay. Dumb, she thinks now. The way their lives have gone, continuing to maintain any sense of optimism is just plain dumb.

When she gets home, Blaine is sitting on the fold-out couch that serves as his bed. Once upon a time, they'd tried to put it away every morning to make the apartment look neat, Mary Tyler Moore style, but...then Blaine got lazy. He'd kept it from her for almost six months that his laziness was actually fatigue and increasing back and stomach pains.

Quinn doesn't bother to go to her bedroom, she drops everything at the door and goes over to climb onto the bed and sit facing him.

Blaine is very purposefully focused on the tv, even though its some news channel on mute.

"Do you want to talk about this?" she asks quietly.

He shakes his head. "No. I'm fine."

"Okay." Quinn shifts around to sit next to him, leaning against the back of couch, legs stretched out on the mattress.

"Sorry." Blaine gestures at the tv screen. "There's nothing on."

"That's okay."

"Stop saying okay."

"O...kay?" Quinn grins, waiting for Blaine's reaction.

"I hate you." Blaine cracks a smile.

Quinn starts laughing and Blaine joins her, if only for a moment. Quinn bumps his shoulder with hers. "Listen, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to go make dinner. You're going to go take a shower. Then, we're going to eat. Then..." She scrambles off the bed and runs to her purse to pull out the movie she'd picked up on the way home. "We're going to sit here and watch _Fast Five_."

Blaine's eyes widen. "You didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"Paul Walker, come to me." Blaine sits up on his knees and makes grabby hands for the movie.

Laughing, Quinn walks over to him, but when she gets close enough, instead of taking the DVD, Blaine wraps his arms around her instead. Quinn is surprised for a split second and then she drops the movie on the bed and hugs him back, running her hand over the back of his head where its tucked into her neck.

He doesn't cry, but he breathes like he could, hard and damp onto her shoulder.

Quinn clicks her tongue, something her mother used to do, and shushes him. "I'm so sorry. Please, don't be scared."

When Blaine doesn't say anything at all, Quinn just holds on tighter.

* * *

><p>The week before the surgery, Quinn is certain she hears Blaine say 'I'm fine,' more times than she has ever heard the phrase in her life. She has to ask off work for the day of the surgery and probably at least a few days after, she thinks. She's so preoccupied worrying about Blaine being 'fine' that she doesn't even think about how her boss will react to her request.<p>

"A week?" Rachel squeaks at her.

"Yes." Quinn clasps her hands tight in front of her. "My friend is having surgery and I need to be there."

"I'm sorry, maybe if this was a family member, I would understand, but I have a business to run." Rachel shuffles papers around on her desk. Even though they're the same age, Rachel always tries her best to put on a more mature, smarter, better-than-you attitude around Quinn. Quinn can't stand it. Especially because somewhere, deep inside, she knows there's a great person behind the know-it-all persona.

"I can't just let you have an entire week off at virtually no notice," Rachel huffs from behind her desk.

"I understand, but this _is_ my family."

"Quinn, there are rules and I'm sorry but this is unacceptable."

"I really need to be there."

Rachel folds her hands on her desk. "The answer is no."

Quinn crosses her arms. "Well, I guess this can work two ways then. You can agree to give me the time off or I can call off every day next week with the flu. I know you won't fire me if I'm _sick_, especially since I'm the only employee around here that will actually talk to you."

Rachel frowns petulantly. "I know there are some frictions between myself and the staff, however I'd like to remind you that I am your manager and you cannot demand things of me in this way."

Quinn leans forward to place her hands flat on Rachel's desk. "Give me the time off."

Frustration and resolve flash across Rachel's face. "Fine. But, you're not getting paid for any of it and this will go on your record."

Quinn stands up again. "Thank you."

Rachel sits up straighter. "Now get out of here," she says in her best authoritative voice.

Quinn turns on her heel to go. That's the Rachel she hates. She fumes the entire way home and slams her way into the apartment, past Blaine in the kitchen and to her room, where she throws her things to the ground. She changes out of her work clothes and brushes through her hair in short, angry strokes. At a knock on the door, she puts down the brush. "Yes?"

Blaine pushes the door open with his knuckles. "Hey. Everything okay?"

Quinn huffs out a heavy breath. "Work and stuff. No big deal." She tries to smile for him. "How are you?"

"Fine."

Of course. Quinn closes her eyes for a moment. She picks up her hair brush and resumes brushing roughly.

Blaine frowns at her. "You know, you're going to get split ends doing that."

Quinn slams the hair brush back down on the dresser. "If you don't want to talk to me, you shouldn't have come in here."

"I'm sorry?" Blaine steps back out of the doorway. "I'll just go...be in the kitchen."

"Blaine."

"What?"

"I don't believe you when you keep saying you're fine. You have to stop lying to me."

"I'm not _lying _to you." Blaine is getting irritated and Quinn stands up to better face him.

"Yes, you are. You're not fine and I wish you would talk to me."

"I don't need to talk to you."

Quinn clenches her fists. "You need to talk to someone, because I can tell just by looking at you that you are not _fine _and you are not _okay_ and it's making me crazy that you won't just _say_ something." She's screaming, neighbors and paper thin walls be damned.

Blaine looks shocked and confused. "I'm...I'm _fine_."

"You're a liar!"

"What do you want me to say, Quinn?"

She actually takes a step back from him at his volume.

"You're asking me to give you something that I don't have."

"You must be feeling _something_." Quinn hates how her voice shakes.

"I already _told_ you. This is bullshit. I'm not a little girl that's going to sit down and _cry_."

"Well, I wish you would. Because, then I would know that there's still a human being in there."

"Oh, my god." Blaine runs his hands over his hair and turns away. "This is insane. I can't make you happy. I don't even know why I _try_ sometimes."

Quinn doesn't know what to say. She wants to grab something or smash something, anything to wring the shaking anger out of her hands.

Blaine stares hard at her, his chest heaving. He shakes his head. When he turns to leave, she sees his hand go to his stomach, pressing, she knows, on those awful things inside that are hurting him so much.

She sinks down onto the bed and allows herself to cry for five whole minutes. When those five minutes are up, she wipes her face, straightens her hair and goes out to the kitchen.

Blaine is scrubbing hard at a dirty pan in the sink, his hands covered to the wrists with soap suds.

"I'm sorry," she says to his back.

"Well, that's a start."

"I'm sorry. I'm stupid. I'm the one that's scared. You can feel however you want to feel."

Blaine is quiet, still scrubbing away.

"I was mad about Rachel being..._Rachel_ at work and I'm worried and it came out the wrong way." When Blaine still doesn't say anything, Quinn takes a hesitant step forward. "Do you forgive me?"

Blaine finishes washing the pan, rinses it off and sets it to dry before turning to face her. "I got fired today."

"What? Why?"

He smiles bitterly. "I told the boss what was going on and that I wouldn't be able to work for a while and he told me he'd have to hire someone to replace me and to look onward whenever I _decide_ to re-enter the workforce."

"Dick."

"That pretty much sums it up, but you want to know the really funny part?"

"Sure."

"I'm fine."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Blaine..."

"Really. Honestly. Any other day, I would be freaking out about this, but its like I see what's important now and I'm not worried about it."

"Are you serious?"

It's Blaine's turn to roll his eyes. He leans back against the sink. "I would not lie to you. Things happen for a reason, right? I mean, the doctor said the surgery should be pretty straightforward. I'm going to be okay and then, I don't know, maybe something a lot better is going to come along."

"You are..._incredibly_ optimistic."

Blaine grins. "I've had a lifetime of practice."

* * *

><p>The night before the surgery, they're both on edge. Blaine's 'calm' seems to have flown out the window. He paces back and forth, then sits numbly at the kitchen table.<p>

"Maybe I should call my parents?" he suggests for the third time.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Maybe I should call mine."

"Point taken."

She finally convinces him to go out to eat, but neither of them are very hungry and they end up sitting at the bar, nursing drinks.

"It's going to be okay," she says, just to break the silence.

Blaine turns on his stool to face her and nods.

"Do you believe that?" she asks.

"I believe that I have no control over anything either way." He rubs at his face. "The only thing I can control is right now. The rest of the world, all of the people, my own _body, _it all just keeps spinning around and around regardless."

Quinn smirks. "You're making me dizzy."

Blaine leans forward and kisses her gently, like the most delicate press of a finger.

They've drank enough that Quinn isn't too shocked, but she still pulls away, one hand over her mouth. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I never have before."

"What am I, your bucket list?"

Blaine just shakes his head. He pulls some money out of his pocket and throws it on the bar before getting up and heading for the door. Quinn hurries to gather her things and follow him. She catches up a little ways down the sidewalk.

"Hey. What's going on? Where are you going?" He's walking fast and she has to hurry to keep up.

"Away."

"What are you talking about? Blaine, stop. Talk to me." She grabs at his arm to stop him.

He does stop, but in the next moment his lips are pressed to hers again, forceful this time. She staggers backwards and he follows, until her back hits the building behind them. She gets her hands up just enough to shove him away. "Stop it. You're acting crazy."

Blaine doesn't really move, he hovers in her space, head down, breathing heavily. "I'm gay."

"_I _know that. Do you?"

"I'm gay, but that doesn't make me a girl. I don't know how to talk about how I feel." He looks very sad when he finally meets her eyes.

She reaches out for him, but as soon as her fingers brush his cheek, he turns away. "I need to go."

"Blaine..."

"I just need to...go." She realizes he's waiting for her permission and she gives it to him with a nod.

He takes off down the sidewalk, walking fast and then after a few steps, quickening into a run. She watches until he disappears into the dark and then turns around and starts her own walk home.

He's done this a few times before. When things get too overwhelming, Blaine has a habit of disappearing. She thought for sure he would go somewhere special or talk to someone, but he'd confessed to her once that all he does is run. He runs until he can't breathe, can't move, can't _think_.

When she gets home, she doesn't even bother to undress. She just turns off the lights and crawls into bed.

Blaine gets home an hour later. She listens to him move around in the living room, opening and closing drawers and then there's the squeak of the metal frame of the sofa bed as its put away. The thump of cushions landing in their rightful places follows and then footsteps to her room.

Blaine doesn't knock, he just slips inside and eases himself onto the bed behind her. When he's settled, she listens to him breathe for a moment and then he says, "I'm sorry."

Quinn bites her lip hard. "It's okay. We're both a little crazy right now."

Blaine doesn't react to her words at all. "I'm scared," he says.

"Me too."

"I don't want to do this."

"You have to," Quinn answers automatically.

Blaine takes a deep, shaky breath that is very loud in the dark room. "I'm really scared."

Quinn turns over to face him and finds his hand on the sheets between them. She squeezes his fingers, knowing that nothing she can say will make it better right now. "I'm right here."

"Thank you."

Blaine holds her hand like he's drowning and she's the only thing keeping him afloat.

* * *

><p>The morning of the surgery is warm with the beginnings of spring. They are absolutely silent as they get ready and go to the hospital. Quinn stays for as much as the nurses will let her and holds Blaine's hand as much as he'll let her. When the time comes, she brings his hands to her mouth and kisses them gently. "I love you."<p>

The medication is already starting to work, his eyes sleepy when he smiles back. "I love you, too."

The waiting room is pure torture. Quinn knows there are a few other people, friends, that had offered to be here, but when it comes down to it, no one is. Before the first hour is over, Quinn's nails are down to the quick. She flips through the magazines laying on a side table, but she can't focus on a thing.

Finally, at her wit's end, she folds her hands in her lap, bows her head, and prays.

Someone sits down in the chair beside her.

Quinn raises her head to see Rachel smiling at her. Rachel's husband, Finn is standing beside her. He offers Quinn a cup of coffee which she accepts gratefully. "What are you doing here?"

"We thought you might like some company." Rachel smiles. Finn takes the seat across from them, long legs stretched out in the aisle. "I know how much I hate waiting and since you _are _my only employee that actually speaks to me, I figured this is the least I could do."

Quinn smiles at her. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Rachel says quickly. "I'm glad I could be here for you." She reaches over to take Quinn's hand.

"Can I get you anything else?" Finn nods at the coffee he gave her.

"No. This is good. Thank you."

The hours pass much faster after that, with Rachel chattering about ideas for the shop and asking all kinds of crazy questions of Finn, who does his best to answer. Quinn just listens for the most part. She finds that she actually really enjoys their company. They have good energy together, which is something Quinn needs a lot of.

The doctor shows up quietly and sits down beside Quinn. For a second, it startles Quinn so badly that she forgets to breathe. "How-"

The doctor looks very serious. "It was a difficult surgery. We were able to remove all of the growths, but they were much more involved than we had expected."

Quinn breathes. "You got them all. That's good."

"In the removal, there was extensive damage to the kidneys themselves. Right now, Blaine's kidney's are functioning at a very low level. We're going to wait and see if that improves and plan our course of action from there."

"Okay." Quinn's really not sure what that all means. "Can I see him?"

"Of course."

Quinn follows the doctor back down a long hallway, vaguely aware that Rachel and Finn are trailing behind her. When they get to the room, Quinn barely recognizes the person on the bed.

Blaine looks so much worse than she'd imagined. Quinn has never seen him so pale that even his hair looks blanched.

He's awake, but barely.

Quinn steps up to the bed, hands hovering nervously. She's afraid to touch anything. "Hi."

"Hi," Blaine croaks. He swallows thickly. "How'd it go?"

The doctor steps up next to Quinn at the bedside. "Blaine, we were able to remove all of the growths, but there was some damage to your kidneys in the process. We're monitoring your kidney function very closely right now and hopefully it will improve."

The words sink in much more now that Quinn is hearing them for the second time. "And if it doesn't?"

The doctor turns to her. "I'm sorry?"

"If his...kidney function doesn't improve, then what?"

"We'll look into our options when that becomes a real concern, but you're probably looking at dialysis."

"Dialysis?" Blaine is reaching for Quinn and she puts a hand on his arm to calm him.

"Like I said, we'll check your levels again tomorrow and see what we need to do then. For now, you should get some rest." The doctor nods at each of them and then leaves past Rachel and Finn who are hovering out in the hall.

Quinn rubs Blaine's arm with her thumb. "How do you feel?"

"Been better." He tries to shift up in the bed and winces. "What...what was the doctor saying? I don't understand..."

"Don't worry right now, okay? You should rest."

Blaine sighs. "I am resting."

"I know. Let's just not worry until tomorrow, okay?"

Blaine nods. "Okay."

It turns out, there's plenty to worry about the next day, when his kidney's still refuse to work the way they should.

The day after that, Blaine has his first session of dialysis.

* * *

><p>Blaine has to spend two weeks in the hospital recovering. His kidneys don't improve, even as the wounds from the surgery heal. Quinn starts to get an idea of how their lives are going to be from now on and it scares her more each day.<p>

It isn't really hard until Quinn has to go back to work, not just because Rachel needs her to, but because they honestly can't afford anymore time off between the two of them. She spends every evening at the hospital and is reassured to know that Finn and Rachel have been stopping by as well.

In fact, when the day comes that Blaine is released and Quinn can't get out in time to pick him up, it's Finn that volunteers to do just that.

Quinn is so grateful. She thanks Rachel a hundred times over before leaving for the day. She nearly runs home and has to stop outside the apartment to catch her breath.

She opens the door as quietly as possible. Finn is sitting at the kitchen table, squinting over one of those hand held video game systems. When he sees Quinn, he shuts it off and stands.

"Hey. He's been sleeping. All the medicine and instructions are on the counter. So...I'm going to go now."

"I really can't thank you enough."

Finn nods gently and ducks out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

The only light on in the apartment is over the stove, but it's enough for Quinn to see through the entire living room, the sofa bed pulled out again, and the lump under the covers that she knows is her favorite person in the world.

Blaine's back is to her and he is curled over, his favored sleeping position since the surgery.

Quinn drops her bags on the kitchen table, and toes off her shoes. She crawls onto the bed and curls in behind Blaine, one hand inching over his side. She can tell he's awake, just by the way he breathes.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No." In the darkness, he finds her hand and squeezes it.

Beyond the bed, Quinn can see the open window and the dark city outside. Their dusty curtains billow with a warm breeze. Quinn snuggles her head into Blaine's shoulder.

"I'm glad you're home."

Blaine squeezes her hand again and sighs deeply. "I'm glad you're home, too."

Quinn closes her eyes and prays for some optimism, for some hope. She prays for strength for both of them, to be able to make it through this together.

* * *

><p>Quinn begins to have a recurring nightmare in which she's standing in a small, crowded kitchen. On the counter, there's a grotesque, cartoon version of a kidney and a doctor stands before it wielding a tiny, sharp knife.<p>

With no warning, the doctor stabs at the kidney, bringing the knife down again and again in violent motions until it's a mangled, bloody mess.

Somewhere in the background, Blaine is yelling for her.

Quinn tries to push through the crowd, tries to get to the doctor or to find Blaine, or to get anywhere at all, but she always wakes up before she can move, unable to breathe.

She begins to feel terror every time she has to leave Blaine alone, which is very often. On days that he has dialysis, she takes the bus with him to Westerville Hospital, then leaves him and takes the bus back to the music store, only to return at night to pick him up again. He says he can take the bus alone, but Quinn won't have it. It's bad enough that she has to leave him home alone on his days off of treatment, even though he spends most of the time sleeping.

It's how she finds him, without fail. She comes home to Blaine sleeping on his bed, or Blaine sleeping in her bed, or even, once or twice, Blaine asleep at the kitchen table. She's learned that it's just part of the treatment, that it takes a lot out of a person, literally, to go through kidney dialysis three or four times a week, but it still terrifies her that one day she'll come home and not be able to wake him.

It's this fear that overtakes her one day when she arrives home and opens the door to find Blaine sprawled limply on the living room floor.

"Blaine?" Everything falls out of her hands and Quinn drops to her knees beside him.

From her bedroom, Quinn hears a click-click-clacking noise, like something tiny running around.

"Blaine? Come on." She grabs his shoulders and rolls him onto his back and shakes him.

He wakes up with a deep inhale, reaching up to push her hands away. "What?"

"Oh my God." Quinn sits back on her heels. "You scared me to death. Why are you sleeping on the floor?"

Blaine squints up at her. "Hmm? Oh, I didn't mean to. I was just really tired and I laid down to see the-" He stops and slowly sits up in order to look around the apartment. "Tank?" He calls out and Quinn is literally reaching for her cell phone to call the doctor when there are more click-clicking noises and a tiny, tan dog comes running out of her bedroom. It runs immediately up to Quinn and jumps on her lap.

Blaine smiles and reaches out to pet the dog's back. "This is Tank. I laid down on the floor to play with him and I guess I fell asleep. Sorry."

"It's okay. I just...who's dog is this?"

Blaine brightens up immediately. "It's yours."

"Excuse me?"

"It's...hold on." He digs into his pockets and pulls out a simple pink bow and plops it on Tank's head. "Surprise!"

"You got me a dog?" Quinn raises an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah. You've just been so worked up lately and dogs are supposed to bring you comfort and lower your blood pressure and all that." He shrugs. "Don't you like him?"

Quinn looks down at the squirming little dog in her lap. He jumps at her and tries to lick her nose. "Yeah, I like him...It's just, you got me a dog because I've been worried about you?"

"Yeah. I guess I did." Blaine rubs at his face, fatigue obvious in his features.

"Come on." Quinn shifts the dog off of her and offers a hand to Blaine to help him stand. "Go lay on a bed instead of the floor. I'm going to warm up some of those leftovers, then maybe we can take Tank outside."

Blaine is already crawling onto the sofa bed. "Sounds good."

Quinn turns back to the kitchen and Tank is right there at her feet. She bends and scoops him up, holding him close to her chest, a warm bundle of comfort. Blaine was right. Just holding the dog makes her feel better somehow.

She turns around and leans over Blaine on the bed. "Thank you."

He grins up at her. "I'm glad you like him."

* * *

><p>Quinn knew she shouldn't have agreed to let Blaine take the bus alone. She had to work extra late for a special event and he'd sworn he could make it home from dialysis on his own, but when Quinn finally gets home, it's after ten and Tank is the only one in the apartment.<p>

She pulls her cell phone out immediately and speed dials Blaine.

It takes several rings before he answers. "Hello?"

"Blaine, where are you?"

"Quinn?" He sounds confused. She must have woken him up.

"Yeah. Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm...I'm on the bus."

"You're still on the bus?"

"Yeah, I just got here."

Quinn starts to pace. "It's almost ten thirty at night. Do you realize that? What have you been doing?"

"I just came from the hospital...I don't know...I just got on the bus."

"Blaine, look out the window. Tell me where you are." She hears him moving around a little, and the engine sounds of the bus rumbling along in the background.

"I'm in Westerville."

Quinn closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to keep from screaming. "Why? What happened?"

Blaine sounds genuinely apologetic. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I don't know. I think I must have fallen asleep somewhere."

"Okay. That's okay. You still know what stop to get off at, right?"

"Yeah. Of course. Bridge Street."

Quinn's heart drops into her stomach. "That's the stop for the hospital. You're coming home now."

"Oh. I knew that. I'm sorry." Blaine is starting to get upset and frustrated. Quinn knows she needs him to be calm and awake.

"I'm going to stay on the phone until you get here and I'm going to meet the bus at the stop, okay?" She's already got Tank on his leash and is heading out the door. The bus stop is two blocks down.

"You don't have to do that," Blaine says.

"Yes, I do. I missed our trip today, so at least we can walk home together now. How was your day?"

Instead of a reply, there's a clatter-rustle and then silence.

"Hello?"

Another shuffling scrape and then Blaine is back, sounding very far away. "Sorry. I dropped the phone."

"You don't have to apologize. It's okay. Can you look out the window again? Where are you now?"

"By the...the big bank building."

"Okay. That's good. How was dialysis?" Quinn is already at the bus stop, but she can't sit down, instead pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.

"Nothing special," Blaine says wispily. "I had a dream about...hmm, I don't know, a cat or something."

Quinn keeps him talking for the fifteen minutes it takes for the bus to finally arrive. She can see Blaine through the window and tells him on the phone to get up and get off the bus before hanging up. When he stumbles down the steps and onto the sidewalk, she's right there to steady him.

"Hey."

"Hey." Blaine tries to direct them toward the bus stop. "Can we sit here for a minute?"

"Nope." Quinn tugs his arm around her shoulders and steers them toward home. Experience has taught her that keeping moving is the best thing. If they sit, he will fall asleep, and then she'll have an even harder time trying to move him.

"I feel like shit," Blaine says as they stagger up the stairs to the apartment.

"I know. I'm sorry. We're almost there." She takes a firmer grip on his arm and he jerks away from her.

"Ow."

"Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry." She forgets about the fistula thats a part of his right arm now. She's glad it's covered with a bandage all the time, because just the sight of it makes her nauseous.

"I don't have a key," Blaine says sadly.

"That's okay. I do." At the apartment door, Quinn fumbles with the key, in a hurry to get the door open. Blaine is leaning against the door when she finally gets it and he nearly face plants onto the doormat. "Come on." Quinn lets Tank go and manages to swing Blaine out of the way and kick the door closed. She guides him to his bed. He sits down like his legs couldn't possibly have held him another second. Quinn kneels down to pull his shoes off and when that's done, she lifts his feet up onto the bed and helps him lay back.

Tank hops up onto the bed next to him.

Quinn goes into the bathroom and runs the water hot before wetting a washcloth. Back in the living room, she shakes Blaine's shoulder and presses it into his hand. "Wash your face. You'll feel better."

Blaine groans, but does as he's told.

Quinn finds the remote and scoots onto the sofa bed beside him. "Will it bother you if I watch tv for a while? Blaine?" She leans over to see his face. He's fallen asleep with the washcloth over his nose. Quinn doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. She takes the washcloth from his hand and finishes wiping his face in gentle strokes.

"There. Now, don't complain, but I need to catch up on Gossip Girl. I know, I know you hate it, but you'll just have to deal with it."

Quinn leans over to see his face again. Totally asleep.

She turns the tv on and settles down into the pillows and she'll never admit it to another soul, but she does cry a little.

* * *

><p>Within a week, Quinn gets Blaine switched over to a dialysis facility in Lima, the Dalton Clinic. It's right in town and within walking distance of home and the music store. They will never go through another bus trip like the last.<p>

Quinn goes with him the first day. She wants to be sure it's not too far for him to walk and that she can get there from the music store in enough time to meet him on the way home.

"Are you tired?" she asks, when they've gone barely a block.

Blaine rolls his eyes at her. "I'm always tired. So, yes. Am I going to keel over in the street right now? No."

Quinn frowns. "That's not funny."

"It's a little funny. Come on." Blaine nudges her with his elbow.

Quinn crosses her arms. She bends over backwards to make things easier for him and he thanks her with dumb jokes. She's _tired_. "You don't get it," she snaps. "You don't understand how I am constantly consumed with worry and it's pretty obvious that you don't care."

She doesn't realize Blaine has stopped walking until she's several steps ahead. She stops and turns around. "What? Come on."

Blaine catches up and then brushes past her. "Forget it. Go to work. I can make it myself."

Quinn squeezes her eyes shut. She went too far. She should know by now that Blaine's jokes and smiles are his way of showing the exact opposite of what he's feeling.

"Blaine, wait. I'm sorry." She hurries to catch up to him and grabs his arm to stop him.

"Don't." He yanks his arm away from her and cradles it with the other hand. The fistula.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? I'm sorry."

"Would you stop?" Blaine yells. "That doesn't help, because you know what? _You_ are the one that doesn't get it."

Quinn takes a step back, suddenly aware of all the people passing by them on the street. "I know."

Blaine deflates a little and rubs at his eyes under his sunglasses. "I'm trying so hard to keep it together here, Quinn. Everyday I get up and I try to smile and I try to be happy, but it's so hard when I feel like I'm dying inside. That's not even a metaphor. I feel like I'm dying and I can't do a thing about it. It doesn't matter what I eat or how much I sleep or how much you pray, my body is...is failing."

Quinn is silent, watching Blaine speak, for once, what he is actually feeling.

"I get that you're worried and to be honest I'm worried too, for you. I don't want you to be alone. I don't want to be sick anymore. I'm tired. I'm so tired of this." His voice cracks and even though Quinn can't see his eyes, she knows just how they would look now, red-rimmed and glossy. He shrugs. "I don't know what else to say. I'm sorry, too." He turns and starts walking again.

Quinn only hesitates for a second. She hurries after him and slips her arm into his, then leans over and kisses his cheek. "I love you and if I have to take care of you for the next fifty years, I don't care, because you are my family. You're my person."

Blaine winces. "Was that Grey's Anatomy? Did you just quote Grey's Anatomy at me?"

"Maybe."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

They're at the Dalton Dialysis Clinic. Blaine looks up at the warm, cheery looking building.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" Quinn asks.

"No, mom, I'll be fine." He gives her a quick hug and then tugs the door open.

"I'll see you at five o'clock," Quinn calls after him.

"I'll text you," Blaine calls back and waves.

Quinn watches him through the glass doors as he makes his way slowly to the receptionist's desk. There's a boy sitting there, grubbing out on a salad. Quinn watches, amused, as Blaine gets his attention. The boy looks up and Quinn swears she sees his jaw drop a little. She forgets sometimes how handsome Blaine can be.

When they start to chat, Quinn turns away, and heads toward work. She has a good feeling about this place. Scratch that, she has a good feeling. It's a warm early fall day and the city is beautiful. She's on her way to work at a place that she actually kind of likes with people that she has grown to love and appreciate. Best of all, her person, her family is right where he needs to be. Quinn gave up on optimism a long time ago, but right now, she can't help but turn her face up to the sun and smile.

* * *

><p>thanks for reading! constructive criticisms are appreciated!<p> 


	3. Rock Bottom or Enough

Note: This is the actual sequel to 'As Bright as the Sun.' So, if you read the chapters in chronological order they would be 2,1,3...and whatever comes after. I'm thinking maybe one or two more parts, which is a lot since this was meant to be a one-off! This part is from Blaine's POV which was surprisingly hard to write since I realized the kid just doesn't like himself very much :/ Anyway, I'm happy with this so I hope you like it, too.

* * *

><p>The first date is a disaster.<p>

Kurt picks out a simple little restaurant uptown called Breadstix. It's homey and cute and not too expensive but, their orders get mixed up. Then, Blaine spills his drink all over the table and consequently, onto Kurt. Then, while Kurt is in the bathroom cleaning up, Blaine leans his head against his fist and closes his eyes for one...minute.

He wakes up when Kurt starts shaking his shoulder.

"Oh my, God." Blaine covers his face with his hands. "I'm so sorry."

Kurt sits back down across from him in the booth. "It's okay. No big deal."

"Are you kidding? I just fell asleep on our first date at _dinner._" Blaine peeks at Kurt from between his fingers, afraid to see a horrified expression on his beautiful face. "Do you hate me? Are you going to dump me?"

"What? No." Kurt looks honestly shocked. "I hate to tell you, but it's going to take more than a little snooze over your linguini to get rid of me."

Blaine lets out the breath that he had been holding and rubs at his eyes again. He knows that Kurt sees being tired as an excuse, but Blaine is always tired. He's spent the last few years being tired and he wanted so badly for this night to be special. He looks up at Kurt and tries to smile. "I'm sorry. I'm really trying. I really want to be here...I just..."

"You're tired," Kurt finishes, sitting up straight. He motions the waitress over. "It's fine. I'll take you home." With just a few words exchanged, Kurt gets the check and a few to-go boxes. All of a sudden, everything is moving too fast and Blaine can't tell if Kurt's clipped tone is because he's worried and trying to rush, or because he's mad.

Blaine puts his hands out. "Wait. Let's...let's go for a walk."

Kurt stops what he's doing and looks at him doubtfully. "You're too exhausted to sit and have dinner and you want to go walking?"

Blaine bites his lip. He hadn't realized how that sounded. "Yes?"

Kurt shakes his head. "No. Quinn would kill me. Come on." He guides them out of the restaurant before Blaine can protest.

Blaine scrambles for a way to salvage the date. As soon as they're out the door, he stops Kurt again. "Let me buy you dessert. There's an ice cream place on the corner."

"We don't have to do anything else. I swear, it's fine." Kurt is looking at him like he's just waiting for Blaine to give in. He must not know yet that Blaine does not give in easily.

"I have ice cream at home. I'll make you a sundae."

"I don't _want_ ice cream."

"Well, it's going to be a beautiful sundae. You can just look at it."

"You're not going to take no for an answer are you?"

Blaine just grins at Kurt. "This is our first date. I asked you out. I can't just let you go home at..." He looks at his watch. "Seven o'clock. Wow. I'm even more of a loser than I thought."

Kurt grabs Blaine's arm. "Hey. You're not a loser. You're sick and I don't care what time it is."

Blaine nods, but he doesn't really agree with Kurt. He knows that Kurt is just trying to be nice and it is very kind of him to say, but the truth is that Blaine ruined their night.

When they get to the apartment, Blaine grabs Kurt's hand before they can go inside. "Listen, I'm really sorry. I didn't want our first date to be like this."

"Blaine, it's _fine_," Kurt says again.

"It's not. I mean, I asked you out and then you had to drive. That's not how it's supposed to go." With his free hand, Blaine pats at his pockets as he talks. When he doesn't find anything, he stops and lets go of Kurt to dig deep into his pockets.

Nothing. Blaine closes his eyes. "And now I've locked us out of my apartment. I'm so sorry."

"Are you serious?" Kurt laughs.

Blaine nods glumly.

Kurt keeps laughing.

"It's not funny," Blaine says miserably. "Quinn won't be home for a while."

"Don't you keep an extra key under the mat or something?"

"No. We have crazy neighbors."

Kurt shuffles over to sit down on the floor of the hallway. "I guess we'll just wait then."

"You don't have to wait." Blaine slides down the wall to sit next to him. "I'm really sorry."

"Please, stop apologizing."

"I'm really dumb."

Kurt puts an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "Don't say that. You're fine."

Before Blaine can respond, the door across the hall flies open. Blaine and Quinn's neighbor, a middle-aged woman, perpetually in a nightgown, stares down at them. Blaine's heart drops into his stomach.

"Hi, Sylvia. We were just on our way out." Blaine waves quickly and moves to get up, hoping she'll get the hint and go back inside. She doesn't.

"Is this your friend?" Sylvia gestures at Kurt.

Blaine nods reluctantly. "Yes. Kurt, this is my neighbor Sylvia. Sylvia, my friend Kurt."

"Nice to meet you." Kurt smiles.

"It's nice to have a friend," Sylvia says slowly. She rubs at her chin thoughtfully. "I want to show you something, Kurt." She turns and disappears into her apartment.

"Wait, that's okay," Blaine yells after her. "We don't want to see anything."

Kurt looks at him strangely, but Blaine ignores him. He stands up and is just about to close Sylvia's door, when she reappears holding a tiny something in her palms. When she kneels down in front of Kurt, Blaine sees that it's a fuzzy, adorable hamster.

"This is Frankie," Sylvia says.

"Oh, he's so cute," Kurt coos.

Blaine can feel the look of horror on his face, but he can't get any words out before Kurt reaches out to pet the hamster. The hamster doesn't move. It doesn't even twitch.

"Sylvia," Kurt says slowly. "I think that Frankie is dead."

Blaine chokes.

"Only for a week," Sylvia says.

Blaine forces a sound out of his throat, something between a squeak and a whimper. He coughs and claps his hands. "Okay. I'm so sorry Sylvia, but Kurt and I really have to be going now. Come on, Kurt."

Kurt climbs to his feet.

Sylvia shrugs and goes back into her apartment, closing the door behind her.

Blaine takes a hold of Kurt's arm and tugs him towards the stairs. " Now, you see why there is no key under the mat. Crazy neighbors."

Kurt giggles. "Eccentric, I'd say."

Blaine shuffles Kurt all the way out to his SUV and then lets go. He's certain that Kurt must be horrified by the entire evening. This is probably going to be one of those dates that he'll tell people about as a precautionary tale in the future. Blaine takes a deep breath and tries to find the right words. "Okay. I guess I'll see you around."

"What?" Kurt is still grinning.

"I won't be at the clinic anymore, so you know, maybe I'll see you around town sometime." Blaine looks everywhere but at Kurt, waiting for him to get in his car.

"Are you serious?"

"I'm trying to make this easy. I know you probably don't want to go out again, so..."

"Are you _serious_?"

"I understand and it's okay. Just...have a good night I guess."

Kurt stares at Blaine long enough to make him uncomfortable. He shifts from foot to foot, unsure why Kurt doesn't just leave already. Blaine ruined the entire evening for him and he just wants to go upstairs and sit on his doorstep and cry until Quinn gets home and then forget it ever happened.

Kurt is kissing him.

Blaine automatically wraps his arms around him.

* * *

><p>There, under the streetlight, with Kurt right up against him, Blaine is finally forced to consider that maybe the night wasn't a complete failure after all.<p>

It's almost a week before Blaine sees Kurt again. Despite the nice ending to their first date, Blaine wants to give him a chance to forget about some of the less pleasant parts of the evening.

Now that he doesn't have dialysis four times a week, Blaine finds that he has a ton of free time. At first, after stopping dialysis, he felt worse, but gradually, he adjusted to the new medications and diet and gained some strength back. He takes Tank for long walks during the day and after a week or so, he finds that he doesn't have to stop every block to catch his breath.

It also gives him time to plan an awesome date, involving coffee, a trip to the local art museum, dinner, and hopefully, afterward, whatever Kurt is in the mood for.

Kurt has to work a morning shift and Blaine has to go to the doctor for blood work, but after that, they meet down town at a little coffee shop called the Lima Bean.

Kurt is wearing a plain sweater and dressy, work pants. "I'm sorry," he says almost immediately, apologizing for his supposed lack of fashion. "The clinic was busy and I didn't have time to go home and change."

"You look great." Blaine takes his hand to lead him over to the line. "Very professional."

"Thanks." Kurt smoothes his pants down self-conciously. "But, I hate these things."

Blaine leans close to whisper into Kurt's ear. "They don't hate you. Trust me."

Kurt smiles shyly and nudges Blaine with his shoulder.

Blaine wants so badly to kiss him right then, but they're at the front of the line and the cashier is tapping her fingers impatiently. They order quickly and find a table by the window.

Once they're sitting there, Blaine feels his nerves start to creep in. He'd had everything planned, but now that they're here, all of his plans are slipping from his mind, replaced with fears and nervousness. He knows he screwed up the first date and he desperately doesn't want to mess up his second chance.

Self-conciously, Blaine folds his hands in his lap so Kurt can't see the ugly bruises along the back of his palms from the lingering anemia. He checks his pocket for his phone again, because if he starts to feel sick he'll have to call Quinn right away. He hopes his hair is okay. He hopes Kurt doesn't think he's weird. He hopes his skin doesn't have that awful, sickly, gray hue to it.

He hopes Kurt likes him as much as he likes Kurt.

"What are you thinking about?" Kurt grins at him.

Blaine blinks. "You."

"From the look on your face, I really hope that's not true."

"And if it is?"

"Then, we've got some problems," Kurt says in a funny voice.

Blaine shakes his head, knowing he was caught out. "Sorry, I guess I spaced out for a second."

Kurt frowns. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Blaine assures him quickly. "Please, don't worry about that."

"I have to tell you, I'm pretty good at worrying about people." Kurt lifts his chin airily.

"You're a total mother hen, aren't you?" Blaine smirks. It figures. He seems to find them everywhere he goes.

Kurt shrugs carefully. "I wouldn't say that."

"You totally are." Blaine teases, resting his head on his fist. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Kurt looks down at his coffee and wraps his hands around the cup. "My dad had a heart attack when I was seventeen. It was just the two of us, so...I took care of him. I guess that's when I developed my mothering skills." He finishes with a flourish in his voice and a quirky tilt of his chin. Blaine recognizes those tactics. Kurt is trying to deflect Blaine's attention from the weight of his words.

Blaine wants to hold Kurt's hand, but Kurt is holding his mug like it's a life preserver in the ocean. He's learning Kurt now, and he knows that when Kurt offers something personal like this, he pulls back in other ways. Blaine doesn't mind it though. It just makes him want to learn more.

Blaine tries to meet Kurt's distance with his eyes. "I'm sorry. All I had to worry about when I was seventeen was taking care of myself. And Quinn, I guess."

Kurt shrugs flippantly. "I'm sure that was somehow both harder and easier than caring for a sick parent."

"I would never want you to have to take care of me," Blaine blurts out. He regrets it almost immediately. How presumptuous to think that Kurt would ever want to care for him or that he might even stick around long enough to be in a position to do so.

Kurt only looks curious, though. "Why?"

Blaine takes a deep breath, thinking hard before he speaks. "I've seen what it does to a person...what it's done to Quinn. I wouldn't want to put that burden on anyone again. I know this is like, our second date, but a lot of our issues are already out there and I just want you to know that I would never expect that of you."

Kurt leans back in his chair. "Wow."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I want this to be normal. I don't want you worrying about me or thinking that you can't depend on me. I'm really doing better. We can just be a normal couple. Couple of people, I mean. A couple of people out...together...drinking coffee."

Kurt thankfully ignores Blaine's awkward rambling, as he replies sarcastically, "I think you would agree that neither of our lives have really been this 'normal' that you speak of."

Blaine chuckles quietly. "I guess not." When he looks up, Kurt is studying him closely, eyes thoughtful.

"Tell me about it," he says. "Tell me about your disease."

Blaine shakes his head. "You already know the basics."

"Yeah, but I don't know what's going on now. If you tell me everything, then I won't have to make things up in my head and worry."

"Now?" Blaine hesitates.

"Yes, now." Kurt glances around the coffee shop. "Let's go sit over there. It'll be more comfortable." He stands up without waiting for an answer and leads them to an overstuffed couch in a cozy corner of the shop. They sit down at the same time and sink so far into the cushions that they're shoulders are smashed together.

Blaine clears his throat, trying to buy some time. "I don't know why you want to know this."

Kurt doesn't hesitate. "Because, it's part of you. And I want to know you."

Blaine nods, resigning himself to this, to giving whatever Kurt wants. "Okay...I don't know where to start."

"How do you feel?"

"I feel-"

"Complete honesty," Kurt interrupts. He holds up one hand in a fist, pinkie extended.

Blaine smiles and links his pinky with Kurt's. Kurt holds on even when they rest they're hands back on their laps. "Complete honesty," he agrees. "I feel a little tired. Some days are better and some are worse. But, generally better lately."

"Do you have pain?"

"No. Not really. I have a shunt here in my arm." He points to where it is along his sleeve. "That hurts sometimes, but the doctors say it's fine and the pain is psychological. You know, having something in your body that you know isn't supposed to be there."

Kurt nods thoughtfully. "That makes sense."

Blaine can't believe the sense of relief that washes over him. Somehow, Kurt has got him talking about the very last thing he had wanted to talk about and yet, he doesn't even feel a little bit uncomfortable. Kurt understands him. It's like his words have more meaning when Kurt is the one listening to them. "What else?"

"What do you have to do? I mean, medicine? Doctors?"

"Now, I go to the doctor once a week for blood work to make sure everything is still working fine. I have to follow a diet...lots of calories, but no protein, no salt, that kind of thing. It's not that bad. And I take some vitamins and supplements."

"That's it?"

Blaine nods. "Pretty much."

Kurt grins. "Well, that's not scary at all."

"No, I guess not." Blaine smiles. Pressed together on the couch, elbows, hips, and knees aligned, Blaine feels more content than he has in months, possibly even years. Kurt smells like shampoo, cologne, and a hint of the familiar, medicinal scent of the clinic. Blaine leans his head back on the couch, taking in everything about the boy beside him.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Kurt asks.

"Whatever you want."

"I thought you had a plan," Kurt teases. He leans his head back against the couch too, turning to make eye contact.

Blaine grins. "This is better than my plan."

Kurt hums quietly, what seems to be a habit of his, the first few bars of a vaguely familiar song. He shifts his grip so he's holding Blaine's hand instead of just his pinky.

_I love you_, Blaine thinks. He'd say it if he wasn't sure Kurt already had him on the borderline of being a total freak. He's never been in real love before and yet he's sure this feeling is it. It's different from how he feels about Quinn and so much more than he'd ever felt for any other random guy he'd gone out with. When he looks at Kurt, he feels _home_.

"I love you."

When Kurt's wide eyes meet his, Blaine realizes he's said it out loud. Oh, _shit_. He backpedals, fast.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I mean, I did mean it, but-"

Kurt leans over just enough to kiss Blaine quiet. He pulls back after a moment. The intensity of his stare in the moment is enough to make Blaine dizzy. "You believe in love at first sight, right?"

Blaine nods hesitantly.

Kurt licks his lips, leaning toward him again. "I think that's pretty much the situation here."

* * *

><p>Blaine decides to go job-hunting.<p>

He doesn't tell anyone about his decision. He knows its time to get back to work, but inside, he's terrified that they will disagree.

He chooses a time when Quinn and Kurt are both at work, so he can go out on his own and fill out a bunch of applications. He remembers seeing a now hiring sign in the window at the Lima Bean, but it's all the way uptown so he goes there last.

They hire him on the spot as a dishwasher.

It's not ideal, but the wage will take a lot of burden off of Quinn. He walks home on cloud nine, not realizing how late it's gotten until he opens the apartment door and Kurt and Quinn are sitting at the kitchen table. They both fall silent as soon as they see him.

"Hey." Blaine smiles hesitantly. He knows they were talking about him. He hates that.

"Hey." Kurt waves brightly, a little too enthusiastic actually.

"Kurt got here early and I couldn't just leave him on the doorstep," Quinn says. She stands up and gives Blaine a quick hug. "How was your day?"

"Really good." He decides to save his news for a little later. "How was yours?"

"Fine." Quinn sighs. "The usual, really. Doctor Sylvester's office called. Did you know you have an appointment tomorrow morning?"

Blaine's shoulders drop and he looks at Kurt. He'd totally forgotten. It was Kurt's day off and they'd made plans to go to the outlet mall two towns over.

"I'll go with you." Kurt smiles.

"Are you sure?" Blaine asks. Going to the doctor's office is a regular part of his life and he still hates it. He doesn't want to drag Kurt into all that.

"Of course. No big deal. We can go to the mall after."

"Awesome." Kurt is awesome. Blaine has decided.

"I'm going to go change and shower. Are you guys going out?" Quinn asks.

"We're just going to grab something to eat," Blaine says. He takes her seat at the table, across from Kurt.

Quinn pauses in the doorway to her room. "Did you take your medicine today?"

"Yes." Blaine draws the word out slowly.

"The vitamins?"

"Yeesssss."

"Just checking," Quinn sings and then slams her door closed.

Blaine turns to Kurt immediately. "What did she say about me?"

Kurt shrugs non-chalantly. "Nothing major. She was just telling me about her job and how long you guys have lived here and stuff."

Blaine narrows his eyes at him.

"That's it." Kurt laughs. "Don't be so paranoid."

Blaine concedes with a nod and leans back in his chair. "I got a job today."

"You did what?"

"I got a job, at the Lima Bean. You're now dating a certified dishwasher," Blaine announces proudly. He waits for Kurt's congratulations but instead, Kurt shifts uncomfortably.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Of course it's a good idea. We need money. When is money ever a bad idea?"

"When you're putting your health at risk to earn it."

Blaine glares at Kurt, knowing that those kinds of concerns aren't coming just from him. "What did Quinn say?"

Kurt sighs heavily. "She said that you're still anemic. That you still sleep a lot."

"That doesn't mean I'm not capable of working." Blaine can hardly believe what he's hearing. This is exactly what he was afraid of.

Kurt suddenly won't meet his eyes. He picks at a spot on the table. "She also said that she thinks your condition might come back." He looks up to meet Blaine's stare.

Behind them, in the bathroom, the shower comes on, a dull rushing through the wall.

"I'm not putting my life on hold anymore for 'what if's'." Blaine is so tense, so holding back from saying more, that he twitches.

Kurt looks down again and folds his hands in his lap. "We're just worried about you."

Blaine takes a deep breath before he starts yelling, because Kurt really doesn't deserve that. "Okay. I really, really don't need another person worrying about me. I need someone that will actually listen to me and let me feel halfway normal again. I want to have a life and contribute something to my relationships. I don't...I'm not this sickly person, Kurt. I can take care of myself now." He stares at Kurt, willing him to understand.

"Okay."

Blaine blinks. "Okay?"

Kurt shrugs. "Yeah. Everything you just said makes sense. I'm listening to you."

Blaine feels like his shell has been cracked open and he's being allowed to see the world for the first time. "_Thank you_."

"Good luck telling Quinn about the job though. I predict a nuclear meltdown."

"Oh my, God." Blaine props his elbows on the table and puts his head in his hands. "What should I say?"

"The truth. Just be honest."

Blaine snorts. "Have you met Quinn?"

"Yeah, and I think you two are very much alike."

Blaine looks at Kurt suspiciously. "How do you know us so well already?"

Kurt laughs. "I'm a fast learner."

The bathroom door opens and then the door to Quinn's room opens and closes. Blaine glances over his shoulder.

"I should just do it now."

Kurt nods. "Rip the band-aid off."

Blaine squares his shoulders and goes over to her door. He knocks quickly and then opens the door when she calls him in.

Quinn is sitting on the bed in a bathrobe, combing out her hair. "What's up?"

Blaine takes a deep breath and stands up straight. "I got a job today."

Quinn stops combing and puts the brush down. "Doing what?"

"Washing dishes at the Lima Bean. It's a coffee shop."

Quinn closes her eyes.

Blaine waits.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she finally says.

"I think it's a great idea."

Quinn is shaking her head. "You're still not one-hundred percent and we're not so desperate for money that you have to work."

"I can work. I want to help out. There's no reason I can't."

Quinn stands up and busies herself at the dresser. She twists her hair up and clips it. "The reason you can't is because I don't think it's a good idea."

Blaine scrunches his face up in a frown. "You don't get to decide everything for me."

"I've been deciding everything for two years now."

Blaine scoffs. "That's not true and you know it."

Quinn spins around to face him, her face twisted in anger. "Don't you dare try to diminish what I've done. You've been out of your mind with exhaustion or pain or both for...for a long time. I've taken care of everything. I've decided. I decide." She jabs a finger into her own chest.

Blaine crosses his arms. She's right on some counts, but if he ever wants to do this, he can't let her know it yet. "I'm getting better," he points out gently. "I _am_ better. You need to realize that."

"You need to wait," Quinn replies firmly.

"I have the job now."

"Well, call them up and explain the situation." Quinn brushes past him and starts to pull clothes out of her closet.

"No way. They don't need to know my _situation_."

"You're not going to tell them? Great idea. Then, when you get sick at work or you have to call off or you have to work around doctor's appointments..."

"Stop. Please." Blaine holds his hands out to her. "I'm done. I have the job. I'm keeping it. That's it. I don't need your incredible negativity to ruin it for me." He glares at her one last time before turning and marching back out to the kitchen.

The table is empty.

Kurt is gone.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Kurt shows up right on time for Blaine's doctor appointment. Blaine is more than a little surprised to see him. He hadn't spoken to Quinn for the rest of the night, certain that, thanks to her, things between him and Kurt were beyond repair. Yet, Kurt is here, standing at the door, nervously rocking back and forth on his heels.<p>

"Good morning," he says, in a cheerfully strained kind of way.

"Morning." Blaine grabs his jacket and they're out the door. "I didn't think you'd show up. I was just about to go wait for the bus."

Kurt frowns and clasps his hands together in front of him. "I'm really sorry about last night. I felt like I was intruding. I couldn't help but listen and I didn't think I should. So, I just...I just wanted to give you guys your privacy."

Blaine nods tightly. "It's okay. I get it."

"Do you really?"

Blaine really doesn't, but he can't say that, so he doesn't say anything. He knows it's only been a few months, but it feels like he's known Kurt forever and he can't imagine a single thing that should've made him leave, especially when Blaine needed him.

Kurt's SUV is parked at the curb and Kurt quickens his step to open the door for Blaine.

Blaine stops and takes a hold of the door frame. "I am capable of opening my own door."

Kurt lets go without a word and circles around the car. Once they've started down the road, he finally speaks. "You know Blaine, every time Quinn or I do something nice for you, it's not all because we think you're sick or weak. I do it because I care and I want to do nice things for you."

Blaine rests his head on his fist and looks out the window. He chews on his bottom lip, hard. What Kurt is saying makes sense, but Blaine is feeling way too smothered to take it right now. He settles somewhere in the middle of it all. "Thank you for driving me today."

Beside him, Kurt sighs heavily. Apparently, it wasn't the response he'd wanted. "No problem."

At the doctor's office, Blaine reluctantly lets Kurt follow him around. They go to the lab where blood is drawn through the fistula in his arm. Blaine tries not to look at Kurt's face for that part. When the doctor comes around, the conversation is short. The tall, blonde physician is probably the only person Blaine knows that takes his words at face value.

They have to wait around while the lab gets his results.

Sitting in the waiting room, right next to Kurt, Blaine hasn't felt so far from him since the moment they met. He knows it's all his fault and it sucks so, so badly. Blaine wants to smash something. He wants to quit being this crazy, complicated person and start being someone that Kurt could actually love.

Zoned out, Blaine doesn't know how much time passes before Doctor Sylvester calls them back again. She gets right to the point.

"Your lab results tell me everything looks peachy. Kidneys are hanging in there, right around 65%. But, the anemia is worse."

Blaine's mouth falls open. He's been feeling okay, but if he's really honest, he has been a little worried that he's still so tired. "Is that bad?"

"Nothing to get your panties in a twist about just yet. We'll keep an eye on it along with all your other delicacies. For now, I want to boost your vitamin intake. We're going to hardline some iron right into your blood stream. That should get you hopping around like a caffeinated Easter bunny again in no time."

"Injections?" Blaine doesn't like the sound of that at all.

"You got it, kid. It's the best way. Once a week, whenever you come in." Dr. Sylvester winks at him and hands him a new prescription order before sending them on their way.

In the car again, Blaine can feel Kurt watching him from the corner of his eye.

"Are you okay?" Kurt finally asks.

Blaine presses his lips together and breathes deep through his nose. He really doesn't ever want to have another conversation about how 'okay' he is again ever. He doesn't feel like having any conversations at all right now. "You know, maybe we should just forget the mall today."

Kurt looks surprised. "Are you sure?"

Blaine nods quickly.

"Okay." Kurt frowns, but makes the turn to head home, instead of toward the highway.

They ride in silence for a while. Blaine stares out the windshield, hypnotized by the blurring of street signs as they pass.

Kurt clears his throat. "When do you start work?"

"Tommorow morning."

"That's pretty fast." Kurt laughs nervously.

"I guess. It's just training."

"You know, I don't think they'd mind if you said you needed to wait a few more days to start."

Blaine can't even dignify that with a response. He doesn't know why everyone has to continue ganging up on him. It's like they _want_ him to be feeble and sick for the rest of his life.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore." He literally bites his tongue to keep from adding anything else.

"Okay." Kurt wrings his hands around the steering wheel. He sounds hurt, but all Blaine can think about is how hurt he feels, inside. Fighting with Quinn, the sudden distance from Kurt, another blow to his health. It _hurts_.

When they finally get back to the apartment, Blaine hops out before Kurt can even unbuckle. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

Kurt is biting his bottom lip when he nods. Blaine turns away before he can see the quiver of Kurt's chin and the way his eyes fill up with wetness.

* * *

><p>It turns out being a dishwasher doesn't actually involve much training and Blaine is given a full load after just a half hour. He washes more dishes than he can even remember seeing in his lifetime and his new boss breathes down his neck the entire time, not so subtly encouraging him to be quicker.<p>

At the end of a six hour shift, he staggers outside, across the street to a small park and sits down in the grass beneath a tree. He can feel the fine muscles in his legs trembling and he knows he'll never make the walk home. He leans his head back against the tree trunk and closes his eyes. He'd gone to sleep early last night, in preparation for the job and because he still isn't speaking to Quinn, but the extra sleep doesn't seem to have made any difference at all as he drifts off.

Blaine wakes up when something shoves hard at his shoulder and his head hits the grass.

It's dark now, there's grass and dirt in his face and somebody has their hand in his back pocket.

Blaine jerks away and gets another shove and a mouthful of grass for it. By the time he scrambles to his feet, the thief has his wallet in hand and is running away across the open space of the park. Without a thought, Blaine takes off after him.

He hasn't run any kind of distance since before the surgery and very quickly he feels all kinds of new aches and twinges. Still, he pushes forward. The thief isn't too far off and Blaine doesn't want to lose him in the gloom and shadows of the evening.

He knows his wallet was mostly empty. Some cards, some pictures, his license, and the meager tips he'd made at the coffee shop that morning. But it's the idea of it, that someone would be so bold as to walk up to him, asleep, and yank his wallet right out of his pocket, that keeps his adrenaline flowing. He can't handle losing one more single, solitary thing.

The thief turns down an alley and runs right up to a chain-link fence. In the second that he takes to get ready to climb it, Blaine catches up and uses all of his momentum to shove the guy hard into the pavement with his shoulder.

The thief hits the ground with a smack and a whoosh as the air goes out of his lungs. The wallet falls from his limp fingers.

Blaine snatches it up from the concrete, breathing hard, ready for more of a fight when all the thief does is raise his hands up in defeat.

"Take it. Take it. Take it," the guy stutters.

Blaine is so angry, he's shivering. Words fail him and all he manages is to spit on the pavement beside the guy's feet.

The thief flinches but doesn't make any attempt to move. After a long, tense moment, Blaine turns and stumbles back out of the alley. The adrenaline is fading and his hands are starting to tremble.

He checks his wallet as soon as he's back out on the street to be sure nothing is missing. With that done, he finds the nearest bench and falls onto it. He leans forward and puts his head in his hands, breathing curses into his palms.

Now that he's still, his head spins in lazy loops and the ground seems to shift beneath him.

This is it, he thinks. Rock bottom is when you've estranged your friends, your family, your chance at a relationship and chased down a pick-pocket just for five, crumpled one-dollar bills.

Rock bottom is not even being able to walk home at the end of the day.

He curses harder and digs his fingers into his scalp. He just wants to be home, with Kurt and Quinn and nothing at all to worry about for at least five minutes. With a surge of optimism, he stands up and takes a few steps down the sidewalk. Almost immediately, the world gets a little hazy and dark around him.

Blaine sits back down on the bench and folds over, head on his knees.

He starts to realize that he doesn't have a choice about what to do next.

He pulls out his phone and calls Kurt.

"Hey." Kurt answers quickly, sounding happy and relieved. "How was your first day?"

"Kurt." Blaine gasps his name and realizes he's starting to panic a little.

"What's wrong?"

"I need...I need a ride."

"Where are you?" In a split second, Kurt is all business, his voice tense.

Blaine lifts his head just enough to look around. "By the coffee shop, but down further...behind the park." He rests his forehead in his hand and tries to breathe deeply.

"Okay. We're on our way. Two minutes."

"We?"

Kurt laughs sadly. "You're late...I was already at your apartment."

"Oh." Blaine moans. "Kurt."

"You're fine. It's okay." There's shuffling on the phone and Kurt's muffled voice talking to Quinn.

"What?" Blaine tries to focus, but it's so hard.

"Nothing. Don't worry. We're almost there."

The exhaustion is hitting Blaine hard, dulling his thoughts. "I'm going to hang up now," he tells Kurt, so that he doesn't get worried.

"Hold on a sec-"

Blaine hits end on the phone. He lets it fall from his fingers to the grassy ground with a thump.

It's only a few minutes later that the car pulls up behind him. There's the sound of doors opening and then two separate voices calling his name.

Kurt gets there first, landing on his knees in front of Blaine. Blaine reaches out to grasp his arms and look him in the eyes. "I'm okay."

Kurt nods like he's agreeing with a crazy person.

Quinn sits next to Blaine on the bench and instantly starts checking him over, clicking her tongue as she brushes grass and dirt off of his side. "What happened?" She has a bottle of water and presses it into Blaine's hands.

He's shaking so badly Quinn has to help him take a drink. "I was at work," he finally says.

Quinn takes the bottle away from him and starts rubbing his back. "Then what? I really hope washing dishes didn't do this to you."

Blaine looks over at her, her concerned gaze, her hand still rubbing slow circles on his back. Then, he looks down at Kurt, who is smiling so hopefully, so encouraging despite what Blaine knows he has put him through. He doesn't know what he's done to deserve these people in his life.

The entire incident is feeling more like a dream than anything and Blaine considers for a moment that maybe it was, maybe he really is losing it. But, no, he has his wallet still clutched in one hand to prove it wasn't. His arms and legs feel like they have sandbags attached to them and all he wants is to forget about it.

It's enough just to have Quinn here and to have Kurt holding his hand.

Blaine shakes his head slowly and looks up at them. "Can we please just go home?"

He sees the two of them exchange a look and a nod. Then, Kurt takes a hold of his arms and helps him to his feet.

"Of course. Let's go home."

Quinn walks slowly on his other side and between the two of them, Blaine doesn't stumble at all.

* * *

><p>The apartment is an island of calm in the middle of a busy city night. Its quiet and Quinn sets about heating up food for everyone and opening the windows for fresh air.<p>

Kurt takes Blaine into the bathroom and sits him down on the closed toilet seat. Without saying a word, he combs the grass and dirt out of Blaine's hair and wipes the sweat off his face with a washcloth. He disappears into the living room and comes back with a clean shirt and pants.

"I wish I had the energy for a shower," Blaine murmurs.

"In the morning," Kurt whispers back. He pulls up on Blaine's dirtied t-shirt and Blaine lifts his arms without even thinking about it. When Kurt is still for a moment, Blaine glances up at him...and follows his gaze right back down to the surgery scars on his stomach and the fistula and draw marks on his arms. _Oh_.

"This isn't really how I imagined you taking off my shirt." Blaine tries to smile, but it comes out all wrong and he lowers his head in embarrassment.

Kurt's gaze doesn't falter. "This is exactly how I imagined you." He reaches out to run his finger tips over the longest line on Blaine's stomach. "Beautiful." Kurt leans forward to press his lips to Blaine's shoulder. "Sexy."

Blaine can't help but lean into Kurt, nuzzling his neck. The sense of relief he feels is huge. It's been so long since he felt worthy enough for anyone. He almost hopes Kurt doesn't say anything more, because he just doesn't have the energy to keep up with what he'd really like to do. He sighs into Kurt's shoulder. "It's not fair, saying things like that to me when I can barely keep my eyes open."

Kurt pulls away and smiles slyly. He picks up the clean shirt. "Arms up, hot stuff." Blaine complies and then Kurt pulls him to his feet. "Now, food."

"Bed."

"Food, then bed."

Kurt leads them out to the kitchen where Quinn is just putting her dish into the sink.

"There's pasta on the stove," she says. "Let me get you a bowl."

They each sit down at the table with their dinner. Quinn hovers nervously over Blaine's shoulder until he looks at her, one eyebrow raised in a question. She falls into the chair beside him. "Please, don't go back to that job."

Blaine drops his fork into his bowl and pushes it away. "I'm going back."

"I can't stand to watch you like this."

"I'll be fine." Blaine smiles, confident in the people around him, if not in himself. "Even though I spend all of my time trying to push them away...I think I've got a pretty good support system." He hopes the apology is apparent, and that it's enough.

"Blaine..."

"I know, Quinn." He looks over at her, pleading with her to understand. Kurt was right when he said they're a lot alike. At the end of the day, Blaine knows that she is the one person that will really understand why he has to do the things that he does.

She nods solemnly and then leans forward and wraps her arms around him. "You're still my person," she whispers into his ear. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he says out loud.

Quinn stands up and flicks her fingers at his hair. "I'll be in my room." She points at both of them. "And I don't want to hear a single sound out of this living room."

"Aye, aye." Kurt salutes.

When her door closes, Blaine stands up slowly and makes his way over to his bed. Kurt follows at a distance, but once Blaine settles himself on the bed, he pats the space beside him. "Come on, cowboy."

Kurt crawls in, turning onto his side and putting an arm over Blaine's chest. "Is this okay?"

Blaine reaches up to hold onto Kurt's arm. "Of course." He takes a deep breath, trying to stay awake for a few more minutes. "Listen, Kurt, I really need to apologize. I'm sorry for the way I was acting."

"It's okay," Kurt starts to say, but Blaine shakes his head.

"It's not. I care about you and I need you and I couldn't admit that to myself."

"I forgive you. It's forgotten."

"This whole thing...my whole life is making me a little crazy, but that shouldn't be an excuse."

Kurt hums thoughtfully. "At some point, I think that crazy _is_ a valid excuse."

Blaine laughs. "Then, I really hope I'm not there yet." He runs his fingers along Kurt's arm. "I can't believe how lucky I am to have you. I know...I know that I'm not much, but for as long as you'll put up with my crazy, I'm yours."

"Blaine." Kurt squeezes him closer and leans over to whisper in his ear. "Haven't you figured it out yet? You're _everything_ and I love you."

Blaine realizes that his eyes are closed and he's not sure when that happened, finally losing his fight to stay awake. With his last bit of consciousness he turns into Kurt's embrace and breathes him in, certain that for now, neither of them are going anywhere.

* * *

><p><em>Love? Hate? Want another chapter? Want to have never read this? Lemme know!<em>


	4. Serious Concrete Hope

Note: This is the last chapter (I think!). I hope that the decisions Kurt and Blaine make in this chapter feel true to their characters, for the situation. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>Blaine feels sick.<p>

Kurt can tell just by the look on his face. He leans across the table in the restaurant and grasps Blaine's hand. "We don't have to stay here. Let's get some to-go boxes and head home."

Blaine closes his eyes and sighs. "Okay."

It actually makes Kurt a little nervous that he agrees so quickly. It means that he feels bad enough to not even keep up a facade.

With some not so subtle waving and a decent tip on Kurt's part, they get out of the restaurant quickly. Kurt carries their dinner in one hand and with the other, finds Blaine's hand and squeezes it. "Do you want me to go get my car?" It's only a few blocks back to Blaine's apartment, but Kurt is trying to gauge just how he's feeling.

"No." Blaine takes a deep breath of the cool, night air. "This is helping."

Kurt nods. Nausea, then. He's been having a lot of it lately. Blaine keeps saying it's just the medication he's on, but Kurt's worry is a huge, ugly, controlling beast that continues to swell.

"Come on." Blaine tugs at Kurt's hand and starts walking. "I got West Side Story out from the library today and I want to start it before Quinn comes home or she'll have a fit about missing Grey's Anatomy or Ellen or something."

Kurt smirks. "I think I could handle some West Side Story." He leans further into Blaine's shoulder, thinking about snuggling up on Blaine's couch/bed. "You know, I don't think I've ever spent so much time in someone's bed so early on in a relationship."

Blaine laughs. "It's not my fault my bed is in the middle of the apartment."

"Easy access."

"Yes."

"Why did Quinn get the bedroom anyway? And why didn't you just get a two bedroom?"

Blaine shrugs, swinging their hands a little bit between them. "She's a girl. She has a lot of girly stuff and she needs more privacy, I guess. It just made sense at the time. This was what we could afford, so we made it work."

Kurt knows that he could never survive in Blaine's living arrangement. He loves having his own apartment and having all of his things right where they belong. "Don't you ever just want your own space?"

"Sure, but sometimes it's nice to have people around too." Blaine looks sad for a moment and Kurt knows that the 'when you're sick' is there, but unspoken. He can relate. He still goes home whenever he's sick. There's something about laying on the couch in his dad's cozy, little living room that instantly makes him feel better.

Kurt tugs at Blaine's hand, trying to make him smile again. "So...just what kind of people do you have 'around' in your bed?" he asks with a wink.

"Oh, you know...vagrants...street walkers...whoever."

"Not a picky man, are you?"

"I'm thinking of changing my ways." Blaine grins at Kurt slyly. Kurt's heart flutters.

"And just how might you do that?"

"Well, I'd-" Blaine stops.

Kurt frowns at him. "What?"

Blaine drops Kurt's hand, staggers a few steps over to some bushes and promptly loses his dinner. Kurt cringes. He moves just close enough to rub Blaine's back until he finishes.

Luckily, they're just a few doors down from the apartment. Once they make it inside, Kurt sits Blaine down on his bed and gets him some water from the kitchen. He waits while Blaine takes a few, cautious sips. "Better?"

Blaine swallows thickly. "A little."

Kurt sits beside him and rubs his back in slow circles. "You want to lay down?"

"Yeah, but don't you want to watch the movie?"

"No, it's fine. I'd rather just listen to some music. Unless you really want to watch it."

"No." Blaine is already curling over into the blankets, an arm around his stomach.

Kurt stands up to turn on the radio, turning the volume down low, and then slipping off his shoes. He crawls onto the bed beside Blaine, reaching out to run his fingers through his hair.

Blaine sighs and closes his eyes. "You know, Kurt, I'm starting to think there's something wrong with you."

Kurt laughs in surprise. "What?"

"Well, here I am, an average looking guy. I fall asleep on you all the time, I have pretty regular meltdowns, there's zero privacy in my home, and now I vomit at the end of our dates..."

"All of that means there's something wrong with _me_?"

"Yeah." Blaine looks up at Kurt, eyes searching. "'Cause you still don't leave."

Kurt frowns. He's not sure what Blaine's trying to do. "Is this a test?"

"No. Just an observation."

"I stay because I care about you."

"I care about you, too. It's just probably a lot easier for me."

"I thought we were over this."

"Completely over my self-worth issues? No, that's probably going to take awhile." Blaine shifts uncomfortably and rubs at his stomach.

"Well, I'm going to be here awhile so take all the time you need," Kurt says as firmly as he can.

"Hey, maybe we could work on your issues for once?"

"I do not have issues," Kurt says defensively, but Blaine gives him a knowing look. Kurt scowls. "Shut up."

"I love you." Blaine reaches for Kurt with one hand.

"I love you, too."

"I'm going to be sick."

"Oh, come on."

"No, really." Blaine rolls up off the bed and hurries to the bathroom. He kicks the door closed, but Kurt can hear him retching through the thin walls.

He sits up slowly and grabs Blaine's glass of water from the table. At the bathroom door, he knocks gently.

"Just a minute," Blaine calls.

Kurt waits. He knows Blaine hates for people to see him like this, but it's still so hard to stand there and hear him in such obvious distress and not just go to him. Kurt sighs and leans against the wall. He's still there a minute later when Quinn walks in the door.

"Hey." She frowns at him in confusion. "What are you doing?"

Kurt gives the bathroom door a long look, before coming over to Quinn in the kitchen. "He's sick again," he whispers.

The change in Quinn's face is drastic and Kurt almost regrets saying anything. She covers her mouth and is quiet for a long moment. When she looks up, Kurt almost takes a step back from the fierce look in her eyes. "He has a doctor appointment tomorrow. I'm calling off work and going with him."

She steps past Kurt and goes right over to the bathroom door. She doesn't even stop to knock, she just opens the door and slides in, pulling it closed behind her. Apparently, Quinn ignores all of Blaine's little rules about who can see him how and when. Maybe that's what happens when you live with someone for almost ten years. Kurt can't help but feel a little jealous, but at the same time, he's just glad Blaine isn't alone.

Kurt sits down at the kitchen table. That old, familiar anxiety is creeping back into his skin. He's paralyzed. Someone he cares about is sick and Kurt is absolutely terrified of losing anyone and anything, anymore. Not for the first time, he thinks that maybe he can't do this, maybe he needs to walk away.

Then, the bathroom door opens and Quinn helps Blaine out to his bed. Blaine still looks pretty green, but when he catches Kurt's eye, he flashes a huge smile, just for him.

Watching this man, beautiful even in sickness, Kurt knows the truth. Walking away was never an option.

* * *

><p>Kurt has to work at the clinic the next day. He knows that Blaine's doctor appointment is at noon, and every moment after that that his phone doesn't ring, Kurt grows more anxious.<p>

Santana wanders in and out of the office, nudging Kurt with her hip every time she passes. It's during one of her visits, late in the afternoon, that Blaine walks through the clinic doors.

"Hey!" Santana yells before Kurt can say anything. "I thought I told you I never wanted to see your ugly face back here again." Despite her words, she's hurrying around the desk and opening her arms to Blaine. "How are you, baby?"

Blaine hugs her carefully and shrugs. "Been better...been worse, too."

Kurt hovers behind Santana, trying to hold back from shoving her out of the way to grab at Blaine. Santana seems to get the message, as she quickly ducks out of the room. "I'll leave you boys alone, work to do and all that. Take care, baby Blaine."

Kurt leads Blaine by the hand over to one of the couches in the waiting room. "What did the doctor say?"

Blaine leans forward and wraps his arms around Kurt, breathing heavily onto his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Kurt rubs Blaine's back in slow circles and when Blaine makes no effort to pull away, Kurt turns his head to kiss his neck. "Tell me what happened."

Blaine takes a deep breath and sits back, still holding onto Kurt's arms. He won't look Kurt in the eye and Kurt feels his heart trip up. "Blaine, please. You're scaring me."

Blaine doesn't look up from his lap. He speaks in a slow, quiet voice. "I've been sick because my kidneys are failing again."

There's no word for the way Kurt's stomach drops to his toes. He physically shivers, hands jittering around Blaine's arms. "Well, what does that mean? Dialysis again?"

Blaine shakes his head, taking a thin breath. "Maybe for a little while, but they want to do another surgery. Something about a graft to fix the damage from before."

"That would fix it?" Kurt whispers, barely able to breathe. He wishes he were a doctor, so he could understand all of this better, or better still, go in and fix Blaine himself.

Blaine just shrugs. He pulls his hands away from Kurt and covers his face. "I hate this."

"I know. I'm so sorry." Kurt reaches out and bundles Blaine against his chest. He manages to stand them up and shepherd Blaine to a chair behind the desk. Kurt closes the little office window by his desk and prays that no one comes in. He sits down next to Blaine and takes hold of his hands again, looking him in the eye. "You're going to be okay."

Blaine shakes his head. "You don't know that."

"I believe it." Kurt shakes Blaine's hands a little, willing him to believe it, too. Kurt has waited too long for love to lose it like this, now. His heart breaks a little when Blaine's face crumbles and he curls in on himself, voice shaking.

"I'm just so tired of being sick. I just want it to be over."

"Don't think like that. Maybe this is the end. The surgery will make you good as new."

Blaine laughs a little hysterically through his tears. "That's what they said last time and then they just...cut me up."

Kurt is trying desperately not to cry. He knows it's the last thing Blaine needs, but he can't physically control the way his chin quivers. He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around Blaine again, gathering strength that he can feed right back to him. "I love you and I will not let that happen. We're going to get through this. Do you hear me?" Blaine nods against his chest, quieting down as Kurt strokes his hair. "I've got you."

The office door creaks open and Santana sneaks in and silently places a glass of juice and some cookies on the desk. Kurt shoots her a thankful look over Blaine's shoulder and she nods solemnly before slipping back out of the room.

Blaine starts to sit up a little and Kurt rubs his arms slowly. He reaches over to offer Blaine the juice. "How's Quinn?"

Blaine sips at the juice slowly. "She's Quinn. Tough. She didn't say much." He sets the glass down and looks Kurt in the eye. "How are you?"

"What? Me?"

Blaine nods. "I know this is a lot and it's not-"

"Really?" Kurt scoffs. "Are you kidding? _You_ are asking _me_ if I'm okay? I'm fine. I'm ready. I'm good."

"Thank you." Blaine leans forward, eyes closed and just catches Kurt's lips with his own when there's a tapping on the window glass.

Kurt jumps, forgetting he's at work. He reaches up and slides the window open. Kurt smiles at the elderly man standing there. "Hi Mr. Franklin."

"Hello, Kurt." The man's glossy, grayish eyes move over the two of them. "And Blaine. Nice to see you again, son. I hope you're not here for treatment."

"No, sir," Blaine answers, sitting up straight, all smiles and politeness with a man he used to share the treatment room with. "Just visiting."

"That's what I wanted to hear." Mr. Franklin signs in quickly and then heads back to the treatment room. Kurt slides the window closed again.

Blaine sighs shakily. "What time do you get off?"

"Not for another two hours...but you can stay here if you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Santana won't mind. It'll be just like old times." Kurt tries for a smile. He hopes it looks more genuine than it feels.

"Right. The good old days." Blaine rubs at his face.

Kurt takes his hands and brings them close to kiss his knuckles. "Hey, listen. I can't promise you that everything will be okay, but I can promise that I will be here no matter what."

"Thank you," Blaine whispers. "I love you."

"Now, if you're going to hang around here, you'd better make yourself useful." Kurt finds a stack of reports on his desk and hands them to Blaine. "Alphabetize, please."

"Wow." Blaine takes the papers and wipes at his face one more time. "Do I get paid for this?"

Kurt shrugs coyly. "Maybe later."

Blaine smirks at that and dutifully begins sorting the papers. Kurt turns back to his work with a grin.

Make Blaine smile. Mission accomplished.

* * *

><p>That evening, as soon as Kurt drops Blaine off after work, he pulls out his cell phone. He may have put on a good, optimistic front for Blaine, but inside, he's freaking out, and there's only one person that can really make him feel better in situations like this.<p>

The phone only rings twice before his father answers. At the sound of his voice, Kurt instantly feels at least half of his stress drain away. "Dad? I hope you're not busy. I'm coming over for dinner."

Within an hour, Kurt is sitting at home, at the kitchen table with his dad. They're halfway through dinner when Kurt can't stand holding it in anymore and blurts out Blaine's bad news.

"Oh, Kurt..." Burt sets down his fork and swallows his food thickly. He stands up and comes around the table to hug his son.

Kurt sighs, leaning into his father's arms.

"I'm sure everything will work out, buddy. These doctors know what they're doing these days." He taps his chest. "I've got proof of that."

Kurt pats his dad's arm and the man sits back down. "Thanks, dad. It's just that, the first surgery Blaine had didn't turn out so well. I think that the surgeon was too aggressive and there was too much damage. That's when all of his kidney failure problems started."

Burt looks thoughtful. "Well, what would have happened if they hadn't been so aggressive? What if they'd left some of the growths there?"

Kurt considers it, tapping his fingers on the table. "I guess that would have been bad, too."

Burt nods easily. "See? Trust the doctors. Blaine will be fine."

Kurt pushes his plate away and ignores his father's pointed look at the half-eaten portion left on his plate. He's too worked up to eat anymore. "I was trying to tell him that today, that everything would be fine and it was like, he just wouldn't believe me."

"Maybe because you don't believe it."

"Touche." Kurt raises his eyebrows.

"Anyway, I mean, I've only met the kid...what, twice?"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "It's been more than twice, Dad."

"Oh, right. Three times." Burt chuckles at Kurt's exasperation. "But, it seems to me like he's had a pretty rough go of it. And it seems to me that if things are rough enough for long enough, a person starts to believe that's how it's always going to be."

"So, what do I do about that?"

"Nothing. You can't expect to change the way a person thinks. You should know that firsthand, Kurt."

"I guess."

"Look, all you can do is be there for him." Burt shrugs.

"I know. It just doesn't seem like enough." Kurt picks at his napkin, worrying it down to tiny wrinkled bits.

Burt clears his throat. "What's concerning me right now, is you."

Kurt looks up, startled. "What?"

"Are you doing okay with this?"

"Of course I am. I'm not the one with organ failure."

Burt fixes Kurt with a steady gaze, the same look that could make Kurt confess any lie when he was ten years old. "You know what I mean."

Kurt slouches in his chair, folding up under Burt's eyes. "I'm fine, dad. I'm just worried."

"Kurt, you've already had to deal with a lot of sickness in your life, and I know that Blaine feels like the world to you right now, but don't be afraid to get some perspective, okay? You don't owe it to this kid to hold his hand and nurse him to health."

Kurt literally feels his jaw drop. "Dad, I'm not going to dump him because he's in less than perfect health."

Burt raises his hands in surrender. "I know. I know. But, I also know how you get. You go into Florence Nightingale mode and forget about taking care of yourself. I mean, all I'm saying is maybe you need to take a close look at your feelings and figure out how much is genuine and how much is that little bleeding heart inside of you looking for someone to take care of."

"Dad." Kurt is getting a little angry now. He knows his dad means well, but to insinuate that Kurt is some irrational mother-hen is a bit much. "I care about Blaine. I love him." Kurt claps his mouth shut. He didn't mean to say that, not to his dad, not about Blaine, not yet.

Burt leans back in his chair. "Wow. Really?"

"I...yeah. Yes."

Burt rubs at the stubble on his jaw. Kurt watches him, waiting for a response. He hadn't meant to confess everything over spaghetti, but that's pretty much how visits with his dad usually go.

"Listen," Burt says. "My concern is always you first. I've seen you two together and I get it, okay? I do. I just don't want you to lose yourself in all of this."

"I won't, dad. I promise."

"And you'll come talk to me whenever you need to."

"Of course."

"Alright, then. That settles it. I'm happy for you, Kurt. I really am." Burt stands up and carries their plates over to the sink. "Now, there's a game on and I know you don't want to miss a minute."

"Oh...yay." Kurt waves his hands in the air in fake excitement.

Burt laughs and slings an arm over his shoulders on their way to the living room.

* * *

><p>When Kurt thinks of his mother, there is always one image that comes to mind. He's eight years old and his mother is wearing a long blue sundress. She's leaning over him, smiling, her dirty blonde hair hanging over their faces like a shield. It's one moment, one freeze-frame image that defines her entirely in his mind.<p>

The night before Blaine's surgery, Kurt totally loses it. One minute, he, Blaine, and Quinn are sitting on a bench outside of the apartment building, laughing over Tank chasing his tail around on the sidewalk. The next minute, Kurt looks over at Blaine and its like time stops. He sees Blaine beside him, frozen, head back, mouth open, eyes scrunched up in laughter. His hair looks black in the muzzy light of the street lamps, his skin fairer than ever, like a black and white photo.

This right here, Kurt realizes, this freeze-frame image is the moment he will always remember when Blaine is gone.

Everything fuzzes out around Kurt. He can't hear anything. He's stopped laughing.

The world tilts and Kurt puts his head down on his knees, grabs tight to the bench beneath him and holds on.

"Kurt?" Blaine's hand runs over his back. "Hey. Are you okay?"

Kurt is afraid to even shake his head, the dizziness is swamping his brain so badly.

"Kurt?" Quinn has gotten up and knelt down in front of him. He can feel her hands on his knees. "I think he's having a panic attack."

"Oh, Kurt." Blaine leans over him, arms and chest bracing Kurt's back, covering him in warmth. "You're okay. Just breathe."

Kurt focuses on his voice, eyes closed, he tunes out everything else and just listens to Blaine ramble on and on.

"You're fine. I'm right here. Deep breaths. Everything is okay."

Slowly, the dizziness recedes and Kurt takes a deep breath without feeling like he's choking. Carefully, he sits up.

Blaine adjusts himself so that he has one arm around Kurt's back and is holding his hand with the other. "Better?"

Kurt breathes deeply again and reaches up to rub at his face. His fingers are wet. "Was I crying?"

"I think so." Blaine leans the extra inch closer and kisses his cheek. "It's okay."

Kurt looks around. The world feels surreal, like a dream. The sidewalk is deserted. "Where's Quinn?"

"She took Tank up to the apartment. She thought you might want some privacy."

Kurt sits back and leans into Blaine's arm. He wipes his face off again, the emotional weight of what just happened beginning to hit him. "I think I just imploded."

Blaine chuckles. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. I feel weird." Kurt can't stop touching his face, rubbing at his eyes. Normally, he avoids contaminating his skin with finger oils at any cost, but now, feeling the evidence of his tears is the only way he knows this is still real.

Blaine shifts into worried mode. "Weird how?"

Kurt struggles for words to explain. "Like this is a dream. Like I'm acting. Like the world is spinning too fast and I'm trying really hard to hold on but it's all just slipping away from me. I'm trying, oh God." He gasps, pressing his fingers to his lips. "I'm trying but you're just slipping away from me."

"Kurt, I'm not going anywhere," Blaine says in a slow, steady voice.

"But you are. Don't you see? I just found you and now you're going away." The craziness of his words isn't lost on Kurt, but he can't help it. It's what he feels and he gave up long ago trying to control how he feels. The words are spewing out of him from some deep, dark, uncorked place within him and he thinks, yes, he's finally, absolutely lost it.

"Kurt, look at me," Blaine says.

Kurt does, fingers in a fist at his mouth, terror thrumming through him at the simple idea of continuing to be alive.

"I love you. You love me."

"Tomorrow," Kurt gasps.

Blaine nods. "Tomorrow I will have surgery to fix my broken parts and when its over, I will still love you and you will still love me."

Kurt can't understand how Blaine can be so calm about this. He remembers a time when Blaine mentioned finding his peace, but he can't imagine finding peace anywhere in this terrifying world, where little boys lose their mothers, kids lose their homes, and people's inside parts just stop working. "Aren't you scared?"

Blaine takes a deep breath before answering. "No."

"How?"

"I believe the doctors know what they're doing and that the surgery will work."

"And if it doesn't?"

"And if it doesn't, I'll still be okay, because I'll have met you."

That sounds too much like a good-bye. Kurt shakes his head fiercely. "Don't do that."

Blaine grips Kurt's hand tighter. "Please, listen. I need to say this. I want you to know everything so you won't make things up in your head and worry about it later."

Kurt takes a deep breath. The street is becoming clearer around him. He can listen. "Okay."

"The truth is, that meeting you made my life complete. If something goes badly tomorrow, I won't be scared, because I know that I haven't missed out on a single thing in this life. I met you and I loved."

Kurt closes his eyes. He holds tight to Blaine's hand, taking in his words. It's so Blaine to find this zen-like calm in the eye of the storm. Kurt doesn't have anything else to say now. It's all been said. He turns into Blaine and wraps his arms around him, holding on to just a little bit of that calm for himself.

* * *

><p>Blaine's surgery is at eight in the morning. It's a long operation and then there's time in the recovery room and added together it means that Kurt doesn't get to see him until after dinner that night.<p>

He and Quinn walk in to the hospital room together, holding hands. Blaine is lying on the bed, pale and tense, eyes closed. Kurt lets go of Quinn and grabs onto the bedrail, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. He's terrified, for Blaine, and for himself. He reaches out and brushes his fingers along Blaine's hand, as gently as possible.

"Hey."

Blaine squints his eyes open. "Hey." He sounds like he's gargled gravel.

Quinn leans over the other side of the bed. She combs her fingers through Blaine's bangs. "Are you hurting?"

Kurt looks up at her, startled. Apparently, she's picking up on something he isn't. And she's right.

Blaine doesn't answer her directly, but he shifts on the bed and tenses up. His breath, already a little rough, becomes a shallow pant of air. "I...yeah."

Kurt meets Quinn's eyes over the bed. He's afraid that he looks just as panicked as she does. This isn't what he'd expected.

Quinn squeezes Blaine's hand before moving quickly out of the room. "I'm going to get a nurse."

When she's gone, Kurt leans close over Blaine and kisses his forehead. Blaine is still breathing in short, pained huffs. Kurt rubs his arm gently, anxiously. "It's okay. You're okay."

Blaine tries to shift again and closes his eyes tightly. "I didn't feel like this before." He barely speaks in a whisper.

"They'll give you something. Just hold on." Kurt hunches over the bed and takes Blaine's hand in a tight grip. Time slows down and mocks them, ticking by in the anxious, strained huffs of air Blaine breathes. Kurt closes his eyes and tries to breathe, too. He'd been so worried about whether or not the surgery would be successful, he'd barely thought about this, the aftermath and the recovery.

Quinn hurries back in, followed by a harried looking nurse. The nurse doesn't say anything to them, but looks over the IV and oxygen lines. She walks around the bed, pulls Blaine's arm out from the covers and sloppily wraps a blood pressure cuff around it.

Kurt watches her with a frown. He can't quite figure out just what this lady is doing and why his boyfriend's pain isn't her number one priority. Blaine tugs on his hand, unable to even lay still. That's all Kurt can take.

"Excuse me?" He says in his sweetest voice. "Are you a nurse?"

The woman looks startled, pausing in her fumbling with the blood pressure cuff. "Of course."

"He's in pain."

"We're working on it."

"It doesn't look like it." Kurt feels Blaine tug on his hand again, this time trying to get him to cool off. Quinn steps up right at his shoulder though, and Kurt knows she has his back in this one-hundred percent.

The nurse simply frowns at them and goes back to her work with a disgruntled look on her face.

Kurt can't believe it and won't stand it. He lets go of Blaine and turns around, marches out to the hall and right to the nurses station. He surveys the handful of nurses and aides there, and locks in on the first one that looks like a decent human being. "Excuse me?"

The nurse looks up from her paperwork. "Yes?" She even smiles.

Kurt reads her name tag. "Hi Carol. You look like you're good at your job. My boyfriend just had surgery and is having more pain than I think is necessary or normal. Can you please come?"

Carol stands up immediately, looking worried. "Of course. Which room?"

Kurt leads her back to the room, immediately stepping up to Blaine's side. He wants to take his hand again, but Blaine is covering his face with his hand now and trying hard to control his breathing. Kurt literally feels a pain in his chest at the sight.

The first nurse is just tucking Blaine's arm back under the covers. Carol steps up next to her. "What was it?"

"I couldn't get a read on this arm."

Carol nods. "Okay. I'll take it from here. I think there's some call lights on down the hall."

Bad nurse, as Kurt dubs her in his head, turns on her heel and stomps out of the room. Kurt watches Carol move around the room, an example of efficiency. She injects something into the IV line and actually takes a blood pressure reading with minimal fuss.

She rubs Blaine's arm gently. "You should start feeling better in a few minutes. Try and take a deep breath with me." She waits until Blaine makes eye contact and then takes an exaggerated deep breath, waiting for Blaine to do the same.

Kurt finds himself breathing along with them, and with each deep breath, some of the anxiety leaves his body.

"Okay." Carol nods and straightens. "Better?"

Blaine nods slightly. He relaxes further into the pillow.

Carol smiles. "I'll be back in a little while to check on you." She leaves the room quietly.

Kurt hurries after her to the hallway. "Thank you."

Nurse Carol just smiles softly at him. "You don't have to thank me. I'm just doing my job."

Kurt shakes his head, because what he just saw was a superhero like maneuver. This woman not only made her patient feel better as quickly as possible, but also comforted everyone in the room, just by being there. Kurt would give her a hug if he didn't think it would be a little too much. "Not everyone does their job like you do. Thank you."

Carol nods in understanding. "You're welcome. You're a good boyfriend. It isn't easy to..." She shakes her head. "It just isn't easy sometimes. I get the feeling you might understand that."

"I guess so."

Carol reaches out and rubs his arm comfortingly. "It will get better."

Kurt didn't realize how much stress he was carrying until her four simple words nearly break him. This time, he doesn't hold back. He holds out his arms and the nurse hugs him tight as if he were her own child.

After a moment, she pats his back and pulls away. "You better get back in there."

"Of course." Kurt nods. "Thank you, again. Really, I-"

Carol cuts him off by holding a finger up to her lips. She points at Blaine's room.

Kurt grins and waves at her and does just as he's told.

Back in the room, Quinn has taken a seat beside the bed, elbow on the bed, head on her fist. Blaine has drifted off, finally able to relax and rest. Kurt takes the other chair, holding onto Blaine's hand. He's not as asleep as Kurt had thought, because when Kurt squeezes his hand, Blaine squeezes back, meeting strength with strength. Kurt knows, right there in that second, that Blaine will be okay. He has too much life in him to be beaten down yet and Kurt can't wait to find that life, together.

* * *

><p>Blaine comes home quickly. Too fast, in Kurt's opinion. He has trouble doing just about anything and only moves from the couch a few times a day to shuffle to the bathroom like an arthritic old man.<p>

The hospital sends a nurse over to change Blaine's bandages and generally check up on him. Kurt runs into her during one of her visits and finds that he instantly likes her.

This nurse is a very tall woman with curly hair and bright, blue eyes. She's quick and efficient and if it were necessary, Kurt thinks she could probably scoop Blaine up and sprint him all the way to the hospital.

She asks Blaine to call her Nurse Beiste.

Kurt sits patiently at the kitchen table, watching her work from across the room.

Nurse Beiste talks softly the entire time she works, going over the latest football and baseball stats and directing Blaine with gentle commands of "Turn this way, baby." and "Almost done, honey." It's almost magical, the sense of calm she radiates. Kurt saw it first at the hospital with Carol and now, here. He's realizing what an incredible skill it is to do this work and to do it well.

By the time Beiste is done and helping Blaine sit up against the pillow, Kurt has made up his mind. He wants to be a magical person, too.

He shows the nurse out and then hurries back over to Blaine. "Hey."

Blaine smiles from his nest of pillows and holds his hands out to Kurt. "Hey."

Kurt sits cross-legged on the bed and takes both of Blaine's hands in his. "So, I've been thinking."

Blaine nods. "About...?"

"Going back to school."

If Blaine is surprised, he doesn't show it. "For what?"

Kurt grips Blaine's hands tighter. He doesn't know how off the wall this is going to sound. "I want to be a nurse." He looks up and meets Blaine's stare.

"Are you serious?"

Kurt nods, biting his lip.

Blaine laughs, a happy burst of noise. "Kurt, I think that's great. You would be _the best _nurse. I mean, I can speak from personal experience even. I could be a reference."

"You really think so?"

"I know it," Blaine answers immediately, without hesitation. "You're compassionate and gentle and so, so strong."

Kurt leans forward and kisses Blaine just like that, gentle and strong.

After a minute, Blaine is smiling too hard to keep up. He pulls away with a chuckle.

Kurt grins at him. "What?"

"My very own _murse_."

Kurt groans. "It is too early for you to be making fun of me. Plus, that is so old."

"Aw, just let me get it out, then I'll be done."

"Yeah, right. You're never done." Kurt leans forward again, trailing his fingers over Blaine's face.

"Can you get something for me?" Blaine asks, suddenly serious.

"Sure."

Blaine gestures to the dresser on the other side of the room. "In the back of the bottom drawer, there's a cigar box."

Kurt finds it easily enough and comes back to sit beside Blaine. Blaine takes the box gently, running bruised hands over it's edges. "You know that my boss at the coffee shop said I could come back whenever?"

"Yeah, you told me before. That's awesome."

"Especially since I only worked there for a few months."

"You must have made quite an impression."

Blaine shrugs. "All of my checks went to Quinn for bills. She's been handling all of that."

Kurt frowns, trying to follow Blaine's thoughts. "I know. She...you told me that, too."

"Well, I was saving my tips for something special." The cigar box is taped shut, and when Blaine runs his thumbnail along the first strip of tape, the box pops open, stacks of money bursting out of it.

Kurt's jaw drops. "Blaine, you realize we have these things called banks now and there's no need to keep your life savings in a coffee can under the bed."

Blaine lowers his head. "I wanted to take you to New York." His voice cracks and he closes the box again, quickly, holding it shut with his thumbs.

"Oh." For once, Kurt is without real words. "Oh, Blaine."

Blaine passes the box over to Kurt's lap. "It's a little more than four-hundred dollars, the last I counted. You should use it for school."

"For school? I...no, no way." Kurt shakes his head fiercely.

"Kurt, please. You've done so much for me."

Kurt holds the box tight and squares his shoulders. "I will not use this for school because _we_ are going to use it to go to New York City for the single best trip of our lives."

Blaine looks up, stunned.

"I can figure out school," Kurt continues. "My dad will probably whip out the checkbook as soon as I mention it and if not, there's always scholarships and I have some savings, too."

"Yeah, but..."

"But, nothing. You saved this money for one reason and that's what we'll use it for." Kurt leans over to kiss Blaine's nose. "No more arguments."

Blaine still doesn't look happy. He gestures at himself. "We might have to put the trip on hold for a while."

"That'll just give me time to get school set up before we go, then when we get back I can start right away." Kurt sits up on his knees, suddenly feeling electrified with plans. For the first time in a while, he has real, serious, concrete hope for the future.

Blaine is just looking down at his lap though, pulling at a loose string in the sheet. "You're not...I don't know, disappointed?"

Kurt's jaw drops for the second time in as many minutes. "Disa...what? Are you kidding me? In what?"

"Me."

"Blaine. No."

"You're making all these plans and have all these things you want to do and I'm still just here." He gestures around the room. "Stupid, sick Blaine. I can't even walk to the bathroom on my own, let alone hold a job or go to school."

Kurt has to resist the urge to cover his ears, he wants so badly to not hear what Blaine is saying. He realizes that Blaine had made his New York plans before he'd gotten sick again and that he'd given up on them entirely since. Kurt reaches out and places his hand along Blaine's jaw, running his thumb over his cheek. "Honey, no. No way. I'm everything but disappointed. I'm inspired. You inspire me."

Blaine shakes his head. "Kurt..."

"Seriously. I never would have figured all of this out without you. They're not _my _plans. They're _ours_. This is our life. Together."

Blaine leans back into his pillows with a sigh. When he looks up, he smiles, slow and gentle. "I love you."

Kurt snuggles in beside him, pulling up the blankets and holding onto as much of Blaine as he can. "Not nearly as much as I love you."

* * *

><p>The recovery is slow. Kurt doesn't mind spending time laying around with Blaine, watching movies, listening to music, and making plans, but he absolutely hates seeing Blaine aching or in pain. It's also a little weird to see Blaine, who was usually so well put together even when he wasn't feeling well, in pajamas and t-shirts day after day.<p>

The doctors have been tight-lipped so far about how the grafts are working, but when Blaine has an appointment with Dr. Sylvester, Kurt jumps at the chance to go with him. He knows the tall, blonde doctor will tell them all the blunt facts, good or bad.

Kurt gets to the apartment to pick Blaine up early in the afternoon. It takes awhile for him to get to the door, but when he does, Kurt laughs in surprise.

"What?" Blaine smiles. He's wearing trousers, a cardigan, a bow tie, what looks like one of Quinn's hats, and...a cane.

"I'm sorry." Kurt covers his mouth with his finger tips. He eyes the cane. "Was your old man impression not complete?"

Blaine twirls the cane a little in the air. "It kind of goes, doesn't it?"

Kurt nods in delight.

Blaine shrugs and leans on the cane. "Nurse Beiste gave it to me. It takes the weight off...you know." He gestures somewhere around his middle.

"Useful and adorable." Kurt nods. "I approve."

"Pretty sad when the thing that I get dressed up for in life is a doctor appointment." Blaine smiles ruefully and shuffles past Kurt out the door. He turns, snags the door handle with the cane and pulls it shut.

Kurt raises an eyebrow.

Blaine ducks his head. "I might have been practicing a little."

"You are enjoying that thing way too much." Kurt moves around him, ready to lend a hand or an elbow, or whatever Blaine might need as they walk down the hall. But, he sees pretty quickly how much the cane helps. By shifting his body weight up to his shoulders and arms, it lets Blaine move with much less pain. Still, Kurt doesn't know any other twenty-five year olds that use canes. He hopes its super temporary.

At the doctor's office, Kurt tries hard to hold in all of his questions as he follows Blaine around. They make the usual rounds to the exam room, to the lab, to the office, and back to the waiting room.

Blaine sits in his chair, fingers drumming a slow beat on his knee. He's taken his hat off and hung it on the cane, propped against his leg. For once, Kurt isn't comforted by his calm. In fact, he finds it pretty infuriating.

"How can you just sit there?" he finally bursts.

Blaine blinks like Kurt snapped him out of a daydream. "What?"

"How can you be so calm? This is it, isn't it? What do you think Doctor Sylvester's going to say? Aren't you worried?"

"Of course, I am."

"Well, what...what?" Kurt gestures at him wildly. "What are you doing then?"

"I'm...waiting? What do you want me to do? Get up and pace?" He taps the cane with two fingers.

Kurt lets out a heavy breath. "Yes. No. I don't know. I just don't see how you can be so calm right now."

"I've been here before," Blaine says simply. "It's going to be good news or bad news. I hope its good this time."

"That's it?"

Blaine shrugs. "I guess so. If you really want to know, the truth is that I didn't feel this bad after the first surgery and we both know how that turned out. I don't remember hurting so much or being so tired. So, if I had to guess what Sylvester might say..." He lets the thought hang. They can both fill in the blank.

Kurt flops back in his chair with a huff. He splays his hand out, palm up, over his knee.

Blaine grasps it tight without missing a beat. "Really, I'm just thinking about New York. Would you rather see Chinatown or Little Italy? 'Cause I don't think we'll have time for both."

Kurt doesn't even look at him. "Do not joke with me right now."

Blaine huffs out a laugh under his breath.

"Blaine Anderson?" The nurse's voice rings out over the waiting room. It takes a minute, Kurt moving at Blaine's speed, but they're up, back in an exam room and sitting across from Dr. Sylvester soon enough.

She looks very serious as she shuffles through some papers. She puts on her reading glasses, pulls out one page and reads over it quietly.

Kurt clears his throat.

The doctor glances up at him over her glasses. "You in a hurry, Porcelain?"

"Oh. Me? No...no, I-we are just really eager to hear what you have to say."

"Well sit down, Beaver. Here we go."

Kurt doesn't have anywhere to sit, but he slouches further against the side of the exam table where Blaine is perched.

Doctor Sylvester sets down her papers and takes off her glasses. "87%."

Kurt has to clap both hands over his mouth to hold in his yell.

"Anemia has improved, acidosis improved, ketones improved, yadda, yadda, yadda...need I go on?"

The doctor gives Blaine a warning that he is still healing and needs to take it slow. Then, she tells them to get out.

They don't need to be told twice. They hurry out of the office and down to the street.

Kurt feels like he's walking on air, all his limbs made of cotton candy. "It really worked. You're really better. We're going to go to New York. I'm going to school. You can do anything you want, Blaine. _Anything_. Blaine?"

They're already in the car before Kurt realizes Blaine is too quiet. He looks over and Blaine is in the passenger seat, head down, breathing wetly into his palms.

"Oh, God. What's wrong?"

Blaine just shakes his head.

Kurt yanks his seatbelt off in a frenzy and wiggles himself into the space between their seats. "Talk to me."

"I can't believe it."

"Do you want me to call Quinn?"

Blaine shakes his head again. He takes a deep breath and sits up to face Kurt. "I just don't know how I got here."

Kurt frowns, not understanding.

"I just...all this time, I never really thought I'd get better. I never thought I'd really be happy. I pretended I'd made peace with all of this but it wasn't real. I just, I gave in. I surrendered." Blaine tries to smile, but instead he sobs and covers his face again. "And now here I am and I don't know how I got here. I'm happy."

"Blaine..." Kurt leans further forward to wrap his arms around him. "You're the only person I know that's calm when things are bad and crying when they're good."

Blaine laughs and cries again. He's burrowed so far into Kurt, that his hat has fallen off his head onto the car floor.

"You deserve to be happy. Don't ever forget that." Kurt rubs his back until he's calms enough to sit up. "Are you hungry?"

Blaine nods, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe off his face.

"I'm going to take you to dinner, then. You can call Quinn on the way."

"Where to?"

Kurt smiles slyly. "Breadstix, for our _second_ first date."

Blaine glances up, surprised. Then, he grins. "I promise not to fall asleep this time."

"I promise not to be upset if you do."

Blaine scoops his hat off the floor and flips it back onto his head. "Well, that's good actually, because I did miss my two o'clock nap."

"And your three o'clock nap and your four o'clock nap and..."

"You're sounding a little upset already."

Kurt winks as he starts the car. "I guess I missed my nap, too."

"Hey, promise me something."

Kurt glances over at Blaine's sudden, serious tone. "Sure. What?"

"When we go to New York, I want to be doing something other than _sleeping_ in a bed with you."

Kurt loses sight of the road in front of him for a moment. He grips the wheel hard and swallows thickly. "I think...I think that could be arranged."

Blaine quirks an eyebrow at him. "Promise?"

Kurt doesn't need words to reply. He holds his hand out to Blaine in a fist, pinkie extended. Blaine hooks Kurt's finger with his own and pulls his hand close to kiss his knuckles.

It's a short drive to Breadstix and when they get there, Kurt takes a moment to stand in the parking lot. He watches Blaine climb out of the car, cane in his fist, phone cradled in his shoulder as he talks excitedly to Quinn.

The sun is setting, but it still feels hot on the back of Kurt's neck. He closes his eyes and smiles.

This is the beginning of their story.

* * *

><p>Further Note: Santana is a nurse! Beiste is a nurse! Carol's a nurse! Kurt (will be) a nurse! Give me twenty more chapters and I'll put Karofsky in a pair of scrubs. Seriously, I can't write a whole chapter where they're just happy and no drama, but if I had to write a fifth chapter it would be all about the trip to New York City. They'd elope or at least get engaged there, go to Broadway, Times Square, yadda, yadda, yadda ;) Happy Ending! Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing!<p> 


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